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February 20th, 2016

2/20/2016

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Despite the relative ease of walking the last mile to the river, the twins were not in a good mood. They dried quickly but their bedrolls and other possessions took longer.
Gypsum, the more philosophical of the two, pointed out that everything had a good chance of getting wet again during the river crossing, so there was no reason to await the drying before tackling the river.
But how to accomplish that crossing was a point of contention. They arrived at the river where thick and strong pylons, set deep into the ground on the riverbank, gave evidence of a bridge or pier that was long ago swept away. They could see similar pylons on the opposite bank about two hundred feet away. They had more than enough rope to cover that distance.
Feldspar proposed that one end of the rope be tied around him and the other around one of the pylons.  Then he would wade or swim across, attach his end of the rope to a pylon on the other side, and Gypsum could then cross.
Riotori do not swim well or often, but they can propel themselves successfully through the water with a savage dog paddle that treated the water like they treated any enemy.
The younger twin had another idea.  According to the map the closest of their destination villages was two miles upriver.  He wanted to walk that way on their current side and see if a bridge or boat or some other means of crossing presented itself.
Feldspar insisted that crossing the river first made more sense. Here was a definite means for crossing.  There was no certainty that any other would be available further upstream.
Gypsum retorted, reasonably, that a chance for a bridge or boat was more likely nearer the village.
While they stood, almost arguing, the far side of the river filled up with a herd of buffalo.  These six-legged six-horned ruminants weighed about three times that of the largest Riotori.  They also were blessed with grumpy dispositions and a particularly hostile attitude toward anything that walked on two legs.  Ranchers had managed over the generations to domesticate some of them, since they taste quite good, cooked or raw, and their hides after tanning are practically indestructible.
But the three dozen quenching their thirst at the opposite riverbank were not domesticated.  Two of the largest bulls took turns watching the two Riotori.  Their body language betrayed an unmistakable hostility.
The oldest brother sighed with aggravated resignation and the twins began the trek upstream.

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No Rest For the Weary

2/4/2016

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It was paltry five miles from the treacherous fangs of the Ironcut Mountains to the equally treacherous hazards of the Serging River.  While traversing the Deth Plains, the twins often covered five miles in less than an hour doing a brisk walk. 
Four of those five miles consisted of the weeds and grass that both brothers christened with various names, all words of profanity in their colorful language.
They did not finish the distance in a single day.  They did get through the four miles of precarious vegetation, but were so exhausted by the continuous labors of merely putting one foot in front of the other, and the repeated falls and subsequent struggles upward, that they could merely stagger a few yards beyond the border of the greenery to the hard-packed dry earth of the remaining distance.  They barely summoned up the energy to pitch tents and they collapsed onto their bedrolls and fell immediately asleep.
They did not sleep long.
Gluttonous drops of rain began thumping on the pitched walls of their tents. Each one as fat as beetle, they squashed themselves upon the tents and the ground.  Faster and faster they came, soaking the tents and the ground, the pooling water creeping maliciously onto the ground the tents covered. The noise of the rain had disturbed the twins, but not to the point of wakefulness. The creeping flooding of their shelters brought them both on their feet, and Gypsum's curses were in no way inferior to those growled loudly by his brother. 
They had been too exhausted to take the usual precautions against this inconvenience. Besides that, as Feldspar pointed out in his usual ungentle speech, the sky had held no sign of rain.
After pooling just enough to ruin their night the water crept reluctantly down the almost imperceptible hill toward the river.  The rain stopped with a final obnoxious chuckle and the sky cleared.  The brothers' mood stayed dark somewhat longer.

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    The story: This serial is about the "mascot" shown at the top of these pages. There are actually two of them, identical twins, Feldspar and Gypsum.
    The people call themselves Riotori, and their planet is Kylrock. The twins have been journeying for hundreds of miles, across many hazards, in search of mates. Please visit the archives to read their whole story.



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