remembering the dead.

With the Equinox Festival now occurring above ground, Usnea figured it would be somewhat fitting to tend to the few gravesites she had in a morbid “celebration” of her own.

She didn’t have loved ones, not for a while at least. The parents that left her when she fell down into the spiraling labyrinth of cave systems never once tried to clamber down and save her or look for her for years, and there absolutely wasn’t anyone she’d consider a friend. Others were either too boring, too exciting, or some vile mix of both along with touches of many other emotions she did not have the patience for. She seemed to prefer that loneliness though; she’s gotten used to only her talons within her caves, and wanted to keep it that way for everyone’s sake. For my own sanity and theirs.

So when it came time to pay respect for the dead, she paid respect to those unfortunate to the cave dangers. Her bags were filled with oddly assorted berries, the natural fruits of the underground that radiated an odd golden glow from inside the leatherback pouches. Her talons let out soft taps and flaps through the small ponds and rivulets that rippled throughout the cave as she entered, winding herself around the looming stalactites her wings informed her of as she kept them slightly spread out for her own awareness. She usually moved around with confidence, but this area was different considering she didn’t come down much. Many different reasons I avoid it. I don’t come down here unless I have to- and I usually don’t need to.

But in the spirit of the holidays, she now stood within a small pond with her talons and tail getting damp and thick, nares flaring to sniff out the fungi she knew were growing near the gravesites. With her blindness, she trusted her smell the most to point out her landmarks that she needed. They had a tangy smell, one that both rotted of death yet held a sickly sweet tinge that was much more potent than anything she had smelled before, much more than her own stew or anything else within the caverns. She wasn’t sure why, but she chose better than to question it. 

I don’t question the dead, unless they’ve died from stupid causes. I think that gives me all the right to reprimand them beyond their graves. Her talons guided her towards the first few in the mossy field underfoot cushioning the sharp and rough rocks she was accustomed to trekking over; there were other caves that seemed more marshy than others, but this one continued to have the lingering stench of death and sweetness that set it apart from others.

Don’t think I should really question it though for my own sake, Usnea finally trilled to herself with a small grumble, pausing when she felt the thick pillow of moss and other small winding vines underneath her claws. A few small mushrooms with the poignant scent seemed to brush against her wrists, cheerfully letting them know she was beside them as she pulled out a few of the berries and sprinkled them on the gravesite. For a moment, she remained still as her wings twitched a bit closer into her body with a small sniff and huff from the trailing flutter of her spores puffing out. Stuffy in here... This place is unsettling. Let's make this stupid trip quick.

She continued onto the other sites she knew were nearby, copying the same mantra of sprinkling the few glowing berries and spending a bit of time beside the grave out of some sort of pity. In her head as she walked, she counted the bodies that laid and their deaths that still flickered around in her mind. Seeing as it was the most entertainment she had seen within the last few years, they remained fresh in her mind like the stalactite’s mimicking smell of rainfall. This one fell down too far and landed badly; I can still hear their snapping neck. That one drowned in one of the deep pools trying to find the fish for my stew, not knowing the proper way to harvest it. And that’s another one that fell; that one was grueling to listen to their painful rasps as they perished. So very, very tragic.

But these ones… She paused beside the last two, buried off to the side with a small grimace and grit of her teeth. To these ones, she gathered the few berries she had left and took a gander at where the stones might be, tossing them far out instead of going closer from what she could recall when she had buried them. It was a bit harder to tell, remembering the odd misshapen gloves she wore only once and poked at the growing shrooms on her arms uncomfortably as she wore them while she moved the bodies. These ones were omens, she knew, recalling the horrific scent that bathed her senses when their bodies had come to her on different occasions.

Two that stumbled too far, Usnea’s thoughts leered, her claws digging into the mesh below to steady herself with a deep breath. Two dumb travelers thinking they could be heroes. I still remember what it felt like, what it smelled like… The smell of blueberries. And tar. While the other… Of sand. Their bodies were very different; one completely torn to shreds and the other bloated from the pools of blood within them…

She wrinkled her nose thinking of it now, hissing and turning away without giving them the same time of day as the others while she washed her talons in the small pond she had lingered in before. She shook her head, shooting a dark look over her shoulder with another small hiss and a curl of her tail fluffing up to protect her hind legs. Idiots. No sympathy for you dead creatures. You were fools, thinking you knew everything. Thinking you knew more than me.

She dipped her snout in, using a talon to splash some of the water on her before letting out a thin sigh, casting her nose towards the innocent graves now tormenting under the soil from her chastising. She let out another sigh, shaking her head and wiping her face with a wet talon. Those dragons were as innocent as far as I’m aware, however. Just careless and stupid travelers, I could assume, who were misfortunate enough to figure out what these caves really are. Too adventurous, too dimwitted… Whatever the cause was, it was much more accidental than those two.

She studied the land out with the churning graves, still wavering with a small tug in her brain and an odd feeling within her chest. For a moment, the trickling of the water plumed over the sound of her own breathing and harmonized with the quiet thudding she was now keenly aware of within her chest, exemplifying the miniscule ache that was there. They never really got to see any light after that, now buried many feet under even a wink of the surface. Tucked away from the rest of society, never to be visited by anyone except me.

If they had families, then they didn’t get to see them again. Those families didn’t get to properly bury them, leaving me with them. No goodbyes, no send-offs, no stews of the deceased’s mushrooms. No friends to come searching for them or daring enough to try and find where they last heard of their appearance.

Or those that did. Those that did come and sobbed into the talons of their companions when they realized how hopeless the search was. Unaware that someone was watching them.

Her claws twitched again, fastening into mushened soil and dirt that made the puddle below her tremble from the canyons it caused below the surface into the earth. She finally reigned her thoughts in, jerking her head away as she let out a soft snort. Whatever. Those idiots asked for it. Left me to do the hard work. Ridiculous. They deserve to rot away down here with their foolishness.

She ambled around in the pond for a moment before she felt the slight incline of one of the streams and its faster rushing into the pool, wading out and starting to follow the strand leading away and back up into her cave systems. She clambered up to where she knew the mouth of the chamber was, wings brushing against the yawning opening and casting one last look over her shoulder at the deceased. 

Right, well… Her snout twitched as it moved around from the one field to the separated corpses, curling with their stench still clinging to her nose as she let out one last hiss and a shake of her head. Hopefully I won’t see you again for a while. Enjoy your slumber, or whatever the others say for their tidings and blessings to the dead.

Usnea let out a low and quiet groan, shaking her head and twitching her snout back out at the gravesites one last time as she muttered to the caves and the bodies resting underneath, “Happy holidays, I suppose.”

Then she was gone, heading back up the tunnel to the rest of her home while the room beside her dripped quietly with moss-covered stalactites and left nothing but the echo of her claw steps and the breathing of lichen behind.