CC appreciated.
A series of images, snagged together crudely making no true picture or form, surged around in torpid circles, calling memories that were timeless and endless, viewed upon beyond simple logic and reason.
Memories of time passing with no real idea of how long; of the nameless faces that walked by, and of the countless cycles of rising suns and setting skies. The sensations of heavy rain still lingered in every pore of every skin, as did the intense heat that scorched across burnt back. Yet beyond these memories, vivid though they are, and beyond the dull aches of confusion, came the more vibrant of sensations: sensations that spoke of the present and the physical world. Of the wind brushing through golden hair, and the sharp bursts of birdcalls overhead.
He stumbled through the forest floor, acutely aware of the soft bumps of gravel pressed against his bare feet. He guided his hands against the rough edges of trees, relinquishing in the simple ability to touch and feel.
He ran, testing his body and viewing with mild interest that a greater amount of air than before was entering and leaving his parted mouth. He could hear a faint, panting noise that he realised rose from a place deep within his chest, a place where something else pumped away faster than usual. He listened to it in delight, savouring every thump and every beat of it, just because he could.
He didn't know where he was going, except that something towards the far horizon beckoned him, pulling with an invisible energy. He knew he must go north, though for what reason he could not say. There was no explanation, no motives, but he listened to his instinct and followed the northern wind.
Shortly he reached a stream, the bubbling rhythm surprising a laugh from him and, surprising that it should still surprise, drew another. He approached the trickling water, a sudden, nameless urge to taste it in his mouth making him run the last few steps. He went down on his knees, plunging his head into the water.
The coolness shocked and made him gasp. Another sensation he would soon learn to love. Mouth open, he gulped at the water, savouring its cool, sharp freshness. As the water gentled, he saw something that made him blink in surprise.
His own reflection.
Soft, curling hair tumbled from his head, its colour the purest gold. Falling gently across his shoulders, they haloed a face that seemed to be the creation of a master sculptor. Moss green eyes gazed from a face that was flawless, with straight nose, definite cheekbones and a mouth the said sculptor was sure to be proud of.
Had he met other people and seen more of their ways, he would have understood and appreciated his sheer beauty. But for the present, his glowing youth and magnificence was ignored as he concentrated on the simple pleasure of his being. Of his eyes that could see, nose that could smell, mouth to taste and ears that opened to the world of sounds.
Bending further into the water, he saw his neck leading down to a lean chest and stomach. He did not know he was naked, nor did he feel any conscious need to be clothed. He felt completely at ease now, save the new surprises his body would occasionally throw at him.
Feeling another strong but unseen tug somewhere deep within his chest – or was it his head – he got up and began to run once again.
Stumbling, panting but never stopping, he followed that insistent pull, which would, in due course, lead him to the city of Corus.