Citizen 393 Ione

In the heart of the wilderness surrounding the bustling city of Atlas, an extraordinary journey was about to unfold, woven by the threads of camaraderie and artistry. Ione and Dart, two distinct souls bound by their creative spirits, ventured forth into the uncharted realms beyond the city's bustling streets.

This day was a special rexal's Coming of Age Ceremony.

As Dart and Ione was walking through the forest, they chatted about the Coming of Age Ceremony of Ione. Ione was, of course, excited about finally officially becoming an adult. They talked about how they bet the elders would be so proud of them as they playingly pushed Dart with their shoulder.

With every step they took, the forest whispered secrets, an invitation to explore the tapestry of nature's canvas. Ione's enthusiasm was an undeniable presence, their voice ringing like a songbird through the trees. Dart, her grace an unspoken testament, walked beside them with a quiet smile, absorbing the untamed beauty that surrounded them. She really did enjoy the forest’s beauties.

Their quest? The humble yet magical task of gathering clay for their next artistic masterpiece. The river that snaked through the heart of the woods held the promise of the very essence they sought. As they ventured further, the lush canopy above filtered sunlight into a dappled dance upon the forest floor — a dance that matched the rhythm of their own steps. As they walked towards the riverbed, a swarm of butterflies took off and landed on their furred backs.

The tranquil melody of flowing water guided them, leading them to the riverbank, where clay laid hidden beneath the surface. Dart's gaze lingered on the water's reflection; her thoughts as enigmatic as the depths beneath. Ione knelt by the bank, their  clawed fingers tracing the earth with a sense of reverence.

"Nature itself is an artist," they mused, an admiration for the world around them evident in their voice.

Dart's smile was serene, a reflection of her inner thoughts. "Let's unearth the clay we need for your pottery art piece," she suggested, her fingers brushing against the soil with gentle intent. She read quite a lot about clay and how to determine if it is good for pottery. This deposit seemed just perfect. The very thought of crafting beauty from the raw essence of the land stirred a quiet excitement within her, though Ione was visibly more excited.
Side by side, they embarked on the task, their clawed paws delving into the earth with a shared purpose. The soil yielded to their touch, revealing the precious clay that would soon take shape beneath their hands.

As they worked, Ione's natural exuberance shone through, a light-heartedness that ignited the air around them. Amidst the rhythm of their work, they couldn't resist the playful spark that connected them.

"You know," Ione began, mischief dancing in their eyes, "why did the rexal cross the river?"

Dart chuckled, her gaze lifting from the clay. "Why, Ione?" already knowing the reply.

"To get to the other clay!" Ione's laughter resonated like a chorus of woodland sprites, a joyful melody that echoed through the forest. Dart's response was a chuckle. “This is the best joke you got?” she asked rhetorically .

“I mean, I am the emperor of dad jokes, am I not?” they smirked.

Dart's hands moved quickly, she wanted to collect as much as possible without letting it dry.
But as the clay was collected, the playful energy within Ione’s soul yearned for an outlet. Ione's fingers darted forward, smearing a streak of clay across Dart's shoulder with an innocent grin.

"Oops," they feigned, their laughter bubbling forth like a spring.
Dart's laughter followed suit as she retaliated, flicking a small clump of clay in Ione's direction.

A clay-fight?

A playful dance of earth and spirit ensued, as the forest bore witness to their shared joy. With each laugh, with each flick of clay, their bond deepened, an unspoken connection woven into the very act of creation.

In the midst of their playful banter, Dart caught herself mid-laugh, her gaze softening as it met Ione's mischievous eyes.

"You and your jokes, Ione. You're lucky you are covered in clay too because I would be helping you cover up the missing spots” she said rolling her eyes jokingly.

Ione's grin persisted, their eyes alight with mirth. "Oh, come on, Dart! You secretly love my jokes." They continued laughing “and rolling in clay”.

Dart rolled her eyes in mock exasperation, though the smile that played at her lips betrayed her amusement. "Let's finish collecting the clay before it dries. I am not sure if you can work with dry clay at all.”

The joyful banter persisted as they gathered the clay, their bond strengthening with every shared moment of laughter. By the time they finished, their fur was almost fully covered with splotches of clay. The red and purple rexal was soon nothing more but two large muddy beasts of the riverbank.

Once they finished collecting the material Dart suggested washing off the clay in the river.
“But the river is so cold” Ione whimpered softly.

“You should have thought about this before you covered me in mud” she laughed as she put her left paw on the shoulder of Ione. “Don’t you want to come back to Atlas clean?” she raised her eyebrows.

Soon enough they were diving into the river, the clean water washed the thick layers of mud off their fur and neck plates.

“Aghh, it is so hard to get it out of in between the plates” she sighed slightly annoyed as she tried to scrath the mud off of herself.

The washing took longer than both of the rexals expected.

As they began their journey back to Atlas, the forest seemed to hum with contentment, the sun's dim golden rays casting a warm embrace. The river's gentle murmurs accompanied their steps, a soothing melody that harmonized with the rhythm of their journey. Ione took the basket full of clay, transporting it on their back.

Returning to the city, Dart and Ione carried with them the echoes of their laughter, the memory of their camaraderie etched into their very souls. The mud and clay that was harder to remove and finally left there on their fur were badges of shared experiences, marks of their hard work and the bonds that had grown stronger amidst the wild's embrace.

And as they walked, side by side, the forest's whispered secrets seemed to linger in the breeze. The journey had been more than just about collecting clay; it had been a celebration of their friendship, a homage to the world's untamed beauty, and a testament to the shared joy of creation. On the way back home Ione shared their thoughts and ideas about their next pottery piece. They described large vases with flowery patterns and beautifully yet unusually shaped mugs. Apparently, Ione wanted to create a mug for their friend Baerius. They talked with excitement as they described the mug in further details.

~ marblewyvern