THE FOURTH PSALM
Added 2025-03-24 16:28:50 +0000 UTCThe Hydra cradled the wormling.
“So small,” She thought. “What am I ever going to do with you ?”
She sighed, and dug for the wormling a great hole, as deep, deep as She could, tearing timber and thread and tendon around it, gifting it a cradling nest where the Tapestry’s pores ought to suffice.
“So fragile,” She said. “What can you ever hope to accomplish ?”
She sighed, and lovingly nestled the wormling with Her whole being.
“So cold,” She whispered. “Why even try, in the end ?”
And for eons the Hydra purred, and from Her purrs tearing at the wormling, it multiplied, and from its multiplicity, it multiplied again, and again, until the burrow was brimming with life, feasting upon Her flesh, bathing in Her spinal fluid and boring into Her eyes.
The Hydra furtively went on to sow Her clutch across snow and sand and swamp and stone,
and from this insemination,
things have learnt to walk
that ought to crawl.
