[ тωєиту-тняєє ]

[unflagging]

[Video Post;]
[It is late evening. The recording begins, but little can be seen except the silhouettes of corn stalks and red twilight behind them. The corn stalks rustle and sway when the wind blows.

Then come footsteps, clicky-clocky, crunching along in the dirt between the rows. And by the sound of them, one has to wonder if anything will grow where those feet fall. The corn stalks glide past. Even-metered, the footsteps count out a rhythm, as they always do.

Then comes a man's voice, singing low and dark:]

...hunted like a crocodile...ravaged in the corn...

[Crunching footsteps...

Crunching footsteps...

Crunching footsteps...

The voice again, low and dark:]

"Come in," she said, "I'll give you shelter from the storm."

[Crunching footsteps...

Crunching footsteps...

Crunching footsteps...

Then, low and dark as the singing, the song is picked up with whistling. Low and dark, low and dark. The corn stalks glide past, silhouetted against a red twilight.]
[//video post ends]

[ooc: Canon references, for those who want them. And if you would like to encounter someone who may or may not actually be He Who Walks Behind the Rows (no, really: the jury's kind of still out on this one), please feel free. Just expect creepy creeping.]

Comments

action;

[sleepingstar]

[Did the whistling stop? She retraces her steps to see if she can catch it again.]

action;

[unflagging]

[Naturally, it starts up again--a little farther away this time, but still near enough...]

[sleepingstar]

[Pai follows the sound, wondering if someone is watching and toying with her. She discretely looks around to see if there is anyone -- or anything -- around to observe her.]

[unflagging]

[Nothing. Again, nothing. Only a shadow between the cornstalks, a little darkness between the rows.]

[sleepingstar]

[Nothing appears to be watching her... but Pai knows, the way that a wild animal does, that she is being observed. Seemingly the mouse being toyed with by a cat. It wouldn't be the first time.]

[unflagging]

[The whistling starts up again. Very nearby.]

[sleepingstar]

[Can she catch it?]

[unflagging]

[How does one catch a passing shadow? The whistling seems to move on the wind between the rows.]

[sleepingstar]

[You don't. And the longer it goes on like this, the less interested Pai gets. It was a pointless game to begin with, but if it's absolutely impossible to win, why bother playing?]

[unflagging]

[Because it's at this moment that a man steps out from around a corner--not whistling, but a newcomer on the scene.

He stops, looks at her, smiles.]

Hey! You okay, kid?

[sleepingstar]

I'm fine. [She studies him quietly, wondering if he's the source of the whistling.]

[unflagging]

Okay... I just thought I heard you thrashing around in the corn and thought you might be in trouble.

[sleepingstar]

There wasn't any thrashing in the corn.

[unflagging]

You sure about that?

[sleepingstar]

Yes. [She's a Contractor; she's not going to doubt her own senses.]

[unflagging]

Whatever you say, kid.

[And he turns to walk away...whistling as he does.]

[sleepingstar]

[That whistling... So he's the one. Pai trails along behind him, neither attempting to be discreet nor to be obvious. She has no actual agenda in following him -- there's just nothing better to do. And she is, maybe, a little curious.]

[unflagging]

[He looks over his shoulder, stops whistling, but keeps walking.]

You following me, kid?

[sleepingstar]

We're walking in the same direction. [aka Yes.]

[unflagging]

We sure are. Do you know where we're going?

[sleepingstar]

No.

[unflagging]

Good thing I do, then.

[sleepingstar]

Where are you going?

[unflagging]

Just here.

[And he stops and turns.]

[sleepingstar]

What's here?