Day 16 - Pictures

Of course, Kallian had seen the picture frame at Dunban's bedside. The scuffing of dustworn grooves round the border indicated long periods it had spent in a flux state, turned up or down. The picture, too, was in faded sepia-like tones by design; it hadn't been damaged by the sun in any great capacity.

Of course Kallian could understand perfectly why such an artifact would trouble Dunban, as to its "proper" care and treatment.

High Entia had never been much for pictures, instead favoring portraits. Though they were as a race remarkably adroit with their headwings, able to flick them easily from here to there, and as a race generally prone to garbing themselves, as royals, in stiff armors and heavy robes that didn't allow for many fast-twitch movements, the appeal of a portrait, besides its craftsmanship, was its ability to capture in perfect detail those details which were themselves perhaps not perfect, in presence, or even present at all, but were simply known to be consistent.

Were they, perhaps, vain?

Ones such as they, with fates such as theirs, were perhaps entitled to it. Since their time would not last forever, until wings turned green, they chose to devote some of their comparatively long lifespans to the meticulous, artful preservation of what grand legacy the High Entia held: standing straight, and proud, and tall (instead of a many-flictured snapshot reality).

Kallian could see quite clearly that Dunban had never been the picture-taking type - not as Mumkhar, who chafed, but as a soul more dedicated to the moment itself. But, with Kallian under his entirely metaphorical wing, the retired "Hero of the Homs" was suddenly all over the camera.

The going theory, kept by all about the colony, was that he hoped someday to catch his lover in a smile.