Citizen 577 Resict

Resict sneezed. Again. Honestly, he was starting to regret this mission down into
the gullet of the canyon, on the hunt for richly-pigmented clay. There hardly seemed to
be any flowering plants around, so what was making him sneeze? He stopped, rubbing
his grey nose with one minty-colored paw, scrunching his face up.
The canvas bag on his shoulder slipped, and he straightened it before continuing
on his way, a long winding path carved into the side of the clifface by nature. His way
was sure and clear, but still Resict hesitated as he picked his way downwards. Surely
there was good clay nearer to civilization. Surely he didn’t have to climb this far…?
See, Resict was never an outdoorsy rex. Outdoors there was pollen, and germs,
and no comfy places to take a nap…but outdoors was where his prize lay, if he was to
believe the rex he overheard in the market last week. “You know, I’ve heard in that canyon -
you know the one, mhm - there’s the reddest clay you’ve ever seen. Redder than Sanguine!”
So here he was, almost to the bottom of the canyon, and sneezing up a storm with
every dust cloud his steps kicked up. Now at the bottom, the next issue arose, rearing its
head: Resict didn’t know where the clay could be found. Good, workable clay was
usually found by water, he knew that much, but the canyon seemed to be dry as a bone.
He tilted his head this way and that, purple halo casting an almost sickly glow on the
shadowed rocks. Listening…for what? A trickle of water? The sound of a stream
burbling to itself?
Resict scoffed, and the noise echoed eerily louder than he thought it would,
making him cringe as it reverberated off of the canyon walls. “I’m such a fool,” he
muttered, quieter than his earlier noise. “Listening to old tall tales in the market.”
He turned, pointing his nose to the sky and looking back at his long path home;
the carved out road to the top of the canyon had been easy on the way down, but
upwards it would be a struggle to climb, even without a bag full of clay.
Still, Resict takes the first step, and then another, and is around halfway up the
path, his blue tail dragging dejectedly in the dust behind him as he moved; which was
when he heard it. Not the slithering of his tail through the earth, but the sound of water.
Excitedly, Resict raises his tail and dashes back down the path, toward the
direction of the murmuring, skidding to a stop at the source of the noise - the water
dripped from the canyon wall where Resict had found his way up and down, and he
laughed. “It was right under my feet the whole time!” His eyes crinkled with joy, and he
unslung his bag, taking a moment to tap at the earth, deciding the best place to dig.
“No…” he hummed to himself, watching where the clay let his claws sink in, and
where it felt like he was simply tapping on dried ground.
Finally, he picked a location, and dug his claws into the canyon wall, freeing a
hunk of clay so red it’s like the sunset is trapped within it. It’s malleable, soft enough to
bend and hard enough to hold its shape when cooked. Resict can’t help but do a little
happy dance, hopping from foot to foot, even though the dust he stirred made him
sneeze like crazy.
He’d found it! The clay rumor had been fulfilled. Resict fills his canvas bag with
the stuff, so heavy it looks like he might not be able to carry it home. Still, the wall of
the canyon looked like he hadn’t even made a dent in the available clay, the only mark
of him even being there the small scoop of his paws.
But now begins the longest part of the trek - the way home. The way back up to
the top of the canyon was exhausting, and by the time he had reached the lip, his bag
had leaked red ichor all over his fur, matting it. A small price to pay for good, colorful
clay - but it did earn him some odd looks, a rex stumbling up from a canyon with a bag
full of red, dripping material. Still, Resict didn’t care. He had his clay, and he was going
to create.

~ sky-limits