017 [Voice]

[fabrecation]

[It's rather late at night when the journal clicks on. Luke had waited until he had calmed down from the nightmare he had to make the post, and good thing, too. Otherwise it'd catch the tremor he surely had in his voice.

Instead, he merely sounds subdued, and maybe a little hesitant.]

Does anyone have any good stories to tell?

Or... any advice on how to get back to sleep? [Nothing he usually does is working right now.]

Comments

[Voice]

[fabrecation]

Heh, I can't have it unsweet. Thanks... I'll try that pretty soon.

[There's a pause as if shifts, sitting up in bed.] Myths and legends... Probably longer. It might... uh, take me a while to get back to sleep.

[That nightmare he had was pretty bad and all... Every time it feels like he's going to drift off, he sees it all again. Blood, sickly purple mud, pleading eyes...]

Re: [Voice]

[consultmybooks]

All right.

[The sound of footsteps, furniture moving, pages turning. Giles clears his throat before he speaks.]

During his time as governor of a distant province, Nakakata received from his people the gift of a black ox.

He rode the ox for many years, and found it a good and steady animal. Eventually, however, he gave it to a monk he knew lived in the capital. The monk, in turn, passed it on to a friend who lived on the shores of the southern lake and the friend, in turn, passed the ox on to a holy man who had set out to rebuild a temple long fallen to disrepair.

[Voice]

[fabrecation]

[There are soft footsteps of his own, as if he's not wearing anything on his feet. He has to walk out into the hallway to get to the kitchen, so he's trying to be particularly quiet... though he can't help asking:]

How old was the ox by then?

Re: [Voice]

[consultmybooks]

The story doesn't say. Probably rather old, whatever constitutes "old" for an ox, although I never got the impression that it minded being shuffled around this much.