"Baxter, Stephen - Manifold 03 - Origin" - читать интересную книгу автора (Baxter Stephen)

Sing groans. She is on the ground near the branches. Her nose can smell the
food. Her hands can't reach it.

Fire is eating a twisted-off rabbit leg. His hands pluck meat off it, and put
the meat in Sing's mouth.

Her head turns. Her mouth chews. Her eyes are closed. She chokes. Her mouth
spits out meat.

Fire's hands pop the chewed meat in his mouth.

Sing is shivering.

Fire thinks of a bower.

There are branches here, on the ground. He has forgotten that they were used to
transport Sing. He keeps thinking of the bower.

He makes his hands lay the branches on the ground. He thinks of twigs and grass
and leaves. He gathers them, thinking of the bower. He makes his hands pile
everything up on the branches.

He makes his arms pick up Sing.

It is sunny. He has no name. Sing is carrying Fire. Sing is large, Fire small.

It is dark. His name is Fire. Fire is carrying Sing. Fire is large, Sing
shrunken.

He lays her on the crude bower. She sinks into the soft leaves and grass. The
branches roll away. The grass scatters. Sing falls into the dirt, with a gasp.

Fire hoots and howls, kicking at the branches.

One of the branches is lodged against a rock. It did not roll away.

Fire makes his hands gather the branches again. He puts the branches down
alongside the rock he found. His hands pile up more grass. At last he lowers
Sing on the bower. The branches are trapped by the rocks. They do not roll away.

Sing sighs.

Every day he makes a bower for Sing. Every day he forgets how he did it before.
Every day he has to invent a way to fix it, from scratch. Some days he doesn't
manage it at all, and Sing has to sleep on the dirt, where insects bite her.

She sings. Her voice is soft and broken. Fire listens. He has forgotten the
rocks and the branches.