He doesn’t remember the first time that he remembers; he’s just always been, there in the whisper of water over rocks or the wave of grass. There is life above him, on him, in him. In a way, he is life.
And there is life everywhere, in his world. He feels it in mountains that stretch to the heavens, in bison that thunder over his plains, and even in the bellies of wolves as they tear an elk apart. He feels it as one season moves to another, as the land around him grows. (He finds that everything comes in cycles: spring and summer and fall and winter, birth and death.)
He does not know time, not in the sense of the word. He only knows that things change and that life rolls on: fields are empty, where once great mammoths roamed, but there are other places, places before covered by layers of ice and snow, where moss takes root. Nothing remains barren forever.
He doesn’t know, exactly, when they first come either, those resilient beings who brave starvation and bitter cold. He finds he likes them, in as much as he can like anything (and really, he doesn’t dislike anything; it’s just that he feels a little more of a connection to them than he does to, say, the deer.) They come across the ice bridge on two legs, with hands that burn and voices that bind them in ways never known before.
Eventually, he feels them moving south, into the heart of him and beyond, and he feels them spreading all over. He watches them, the people, grow and change and harness the land (watches them guarded by spirits that he vaguely recognizes are like him). And soon, they are his like the grizzly bear is his, like the horses once were his, and he forgets them. They live and die like all of the other beings who call the land home.
All around him, life moves, and he is content to let it happen as it will. He just watches.
It is like that for countless seasons—he is everywhere and nowhere, a constant force. Then the world shifts, bursting all around him. When he breathes now, he feels the earth warm under his back and the breeze in his hair. There’s birdsong, somewhere above him. When he opens his eyes, it is dawn.
____ Notes!
1. Horses evolved in North America. No one knows when or why they left, but until the Spaniards came, there were no more horses roaming the continent. 2. "Hands that burn" is a reference to man harnessing fire. "Voices that bind" is a reference to the fact that humans are the only animals who have language. 3. This is based on a kind of vague headcanon of mine that before they take their human form, nations exist,in that there's some form of consciousness, but that they don't really have any notion of what's beyond their land and the creatures that live on it. Things like time are human constructs, after all. Furthermore, when it comes to other nations, there's only a distant recognition that they're alike, but they don't understand the concept of "nationhood" as we understand it.
I really like this, especially the part about the horses, the arrival of humans and America's dreamlike state before his awakening to full consciousness. It's very evocative.
Anon this was a brilliant mini-fill. You took it to depths that I hadn't imagined; all the way back to the dawn of man. There was so much power in so few sentences, it was just wonderful, thank you!
I like this too. Especially that you remembered the migration over the ice-bridge! And the tribal spirits preceding. It's my head canon, because the tribes weren't the same as nations back then, that the animal Amerindian spirits filled that role for them.
Thank you! I just couldn't resist a mention of the ice-bridge! I think it's so fascinating how people came to the Americas.
And I love that headcanon! It does make sense that their personifications wouldn't quite be the same because of a different concept of "nationhood" than we have today.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
America- In Spirit
(Anonymous) 2012-04-28 02:47 pm (UTC)(link)And there is life everywhere, in his world. He feels it in mountains that stretch to the heavens, in bison that thunder over his plains, and even in the bellies of wolves as they tear an elk apart. He feels it as one season moves to another, as the land around him grows. (He finds that everything comes in cycles: spring and summer and fall and winter, birth and death.)
He does not know time, not in the sense of the word. He only knows that things change and that life rolls on: fields are empty, where once great mammoths roamed, but there are other places, places before covered by layers of ice and snow, where moss takes root. Nothing remains barren forever.
He doesn’t know, exactly, when they first come either, those resilient beings who brave starvation and bitter cold. He finds he likes them, in as much as he can like anything (and really, he doesn’t dislike anything; it’s just that he feels a little more of a connection to them than he does to, say, the deer.) They come across the ice bridge on two legs, with hands that burn and voices that bind them in ways never known before.
Eventually, he feels them moving south, into the heart of him and beyond, and he feels them spreading all over. He watches them, the people, grow and change and harness the land (watches them guarded by spirits that he vaguely recognizes are like him). And soon, they are his like the grizzly bear is his, like the horses once were his, and he forgets them. They live and die like all of the other beings who call the land home.
All around him, life moves, and he is content to let it happen as it will. He just watches.
It is like that for countless seasons—he is everywhere and nowhere, a constant force. Then the world shifts, bursting all around him. When he breathes now, he feels the earth warm under his back and the breeze in his hair. There’s birdsong, somewhere above him. When he opens his eyes, it is dawn.
____
Notes!
1. Horses evolved in North America. No one knows when or why they left, but until the Spaniards came, there were no more horses roaming the continent.
2. "Hands that burn" is a reference to man harnessing fire. "Voices that bind" is a reference to the fact that humans are the only animals who have language.
3. This is based on a kind of vague headcanon of mine that before they take their human form, nations exist,in that there's some form of consciousness, but that they don't really have any notion of what's beyond their land and the creatures that live on it. Things like time are human constructs, after all. Furthermore, when it comes to other nations, there's only a distant recognition that they're alike, but they don't understand the concept of "nationhood" as we understand it.
Re: America- In Spirit
(Anonymous) 2012-04-29 07:15 am (UTC)(link)a!anon
(Anonymous) 2012-05-02 01:12 am (UTC)(link)OP
(Anonymous) 2012-05-01 03:57 am (UTC)(link)a!anon
(Anonymous) 2012-05-02 01:11 am (UTC)(link)And thank you for requesting it! It helped me get my headcanon straightened out!
Re: America- In Spirit
(Anonymous) 2012-05-01 06:19 am (UTC)(link)a!anon
(Anonymous) 2012-05-02 01:22 am (UTC)(link)And I love that headcanon! It does make sense that their personifications wouldn't quite be the same because of a different concept of "nationhood" than we have today.