Zonaton
“The village she knew as Genesis, but which the gerons referred to as Brytor. The gerons had a name for everything on the planet. A single name. There were no shades, no variations, and no similarities within their mental language. One word equaled one object, action, or nuance. She liked it that way as there was no misunderstanding whenever she communicated with Zonaton, or he with her. Sitting on the big round boulders bordering the ledge, her new brown clothes blended perfectly in...to the background, making her virtually invisible from a distance. Yet she could easily see people going about their daily tasks as she waited. Tiny figures weaving in and out of their homes, or walking to and from the village square. Sometimes she used to feel a wistfulness, the desire to belong, to go down there and join them. Until she remembered why she had been so eager to leave, and then the desire to be among others of her kind evaporated. The sound of the wind in his wings alerted her to the geron's arrival, but she didn't turn to look at him.MoreLess
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