Boa themed story that I'm writing... (long post)

[Vegetatoboaotaku]

This has been a story that his been egging me to write it for a long time... but it get's sidetracked a lot... it's about the life of the first leucistic boa constrictor... this is just the very beginning of the story... the snake goes on to do many other things and go many other places like the US Germany Japan and finally India where this story is concluded.... this is really a taste of things to come...



I havn't let my beta have a go at it so all grammtical errors are my own... and the odd style of writing is intentional...i like fragments! fiction should be slightly formalized poems IMHO.... this is a snake point of view of course... and yes i realize snakes don't think like this at all but it's nice to pretend sometimes right?



don't mind the ghetto chants they MUST be revised, but i need to get in the mood to do that for it to be done... i hate writing things that rhyme UGH!



And without further ado!



All the world is a goodly place; made of heat and darkness and the softness of existence. A thought rings above me embodied in a voice that I am surprisingly familiar with. Mother. That is her name. And she speaks often to herself of things I do not understand but occasionally she directs her voice inward. Once she even began to sing, of the coming of rain she spoke, although I do not know what it is or from where it will come.
There are others. They, like myself sway about in the fluidity of the world as it shifts and settles again and again. They speak but only quietly, in whispers. Never to me, and never to each other only to themselves. And when everything is leant to one side or the next they are silenced in the sensation of animation. Mother, they whisper but never to the voice itself, as if they are captivated by the very thought and must uttered it over and over to come to understand and appreciate it.
There are other things, foul things. Belly stones is what Mother calls them and they sit amongst us corrupting the life which sustains us. But beyond the belly stones all seems well.



*~*~*~*~*



Something grows ill and wretched about me. It eats at the others and their voices are growing quiet. The little beats which had once furiously pumped the blood in all of us have gone still and the liquid which we sit is our bane. Mother sings more frequently but not in joy, she laments for the death in her belly. This is beyond the belly stones; a poison eats at us. I twist in my casing and listening to her and even her blood beats slow and tired despite the warmth that she bears. Death comes for her as well.



*~*~*~*~*



Then came the time when she took up a chant I had never heard before.



When it grows cool and rain falls,
Come hungry thoughts and belly calls.
Find a shallow, beneath brush and tree
Away from tooth and claw to see.
Young come in depth of night
And under gaze of moonshade light.
Like many matrons of life before,
Birthing on bed of forest floor.



Swaying within her, she moved on into the cool of the night in search of a place to settle and wait.



*~*~*~*~*



The terrible compression of the world frightens me. It forces me close to the bits of floating death and the firmness of the belly stones. Few of the others still live and all are calling now in fear but Mother does not speak.
Another great squeeze and the sac that holds the fluid of one of the others breaks and the foulness takes him in. Again the pulling, and again and again. But nothing moves. Mother curses the belly stones and her failing body. Another rush of movement and my sac breaks in turn. I writhe in fear but soon am overcome by sleepiness as I have nothing to sustain me now.
The last living young call to our Mother in waning voices. With all the strength within eleven feet of coils made taught by thirty years of living she pushes with her contraction and I am made free.





*~*~*~*~*


Light captures me first as I escape my Mother. And a rush of things I could not believe after the all-embracing darkness of my first life. Coolness and the soft patter of rain that falls across my now unraveled form. Rain. It does not hurt; It is good. Seeing for the first time, I gaze slowly upon the others, all dead. Contorted heads with malformed eyes starring dumbly into the night, empty of any life. And too, I see the belly stones, looming and ominous shapes. With the insistence of my deepest heart, I turn my head to the sky. Starring and breathing, satiating the desire within me. Breath, the only whisper in my heart.
With labored movements Mother turns to face me. I am not afraid. She is singing a new song...

Warriors named by your blood
One of the ancient Kaishin
Keepers of an feud from long ago
And in the soul power within.



Love for the heat of belly
I give to you
And for the depth of night
When darkness shades the sky blue.



Water is peril but
Cool to sooth the savage sun.
Sleep beneath branch and bough
To make your enemies undone.



Hide then fight,
Watch for tooth and claw.
Be ever wary of the Heavy Steppers
For the are deadliest of all.



She comes out of her song and flicks her tongue. Dipping her head down she inspects her stillborn young. She nuzzles them carefully. Move. She calls to them; they do not move. There is far too much blood across the ground. She carefully pushes aside a few belly stones and tastes the small lifeless forms. Move. She implores. The night is quiet and the soft desperation in her call tears at me. Mother, I speak to her for the first and only time.
She turns to me and her bright eyes reflect the light of the moon as it slips above the clouds. A great pool of moonlight spills across us and we are enveloped in its color and made invisible against the pattern of leaves on the mossy jungle floor.
Ah... She eyes me, tasting the air softly. A child still lives... She brings her great head close to me and nuzzles into my form. Move. She pushes against me and I slide across the forest floor; the cord that connects me to my sac breaks and I feel terribly uncomfortable without it’s weight. She pulls her head back slightly and I tighten my coils against the ground laying still, waiting, growing accustomed to all things. The moon still manages to trickle down through the trees to where I lay. Mother watches me still. Then she utters, You are more special then you could begin to know. You are shaded in the color of the light that the moon gives to us to hunt by. Your hue is of great peril to you, but if you strike fast, coil tight, and hide without fault then you may yet live to greatness. You are the last of true Kaishin blood. We are the keepers of the secrets of the West and have known hidden things since the time of the Great Land when we forever left the jungle of Kaishin. You are as the moon, pale and without dark hue to hide you; so I name you Moonshade, the last daughter of Kaishin.



I look upon her for a long moment; her heart sings but without words... and she lays her head down for the last time to die.



If you're still reading by this point THANKS!
I would love to hear comments on it.
Happy herpin'!

[reptilemama]

Wow, great writing! I love your writing style. Can't wait to read more!

[suzi]

Holy Smoke Vege. I don't even know what else to say except keep going... I wanna hear the rest! I'm all warm and fuzzy inside.

[Vegetatoboaotaku]

Thanks guys!
It's really a great story (or at least it is in my head anyway)... it has an interesting fantasy twist to it though.... and im wondering how that will come across... i donno... when i can get the time to sit down and hack out a few more pages i will post them here...
thankya!

[eddie]

MORE MORE MORE!!!

[LdyDrgn]

Very interesting! Please, keep writing