Ludovica sprinted after her daughter, her loose sleeves and long hair blowing backwards in the breeze. Again, running offered a kind of exhilaration nothing else did. Whether prey or predator, one always had to run--either to escape or to to tackle. Knowing that in that moment, Life was more likely than not running out of fear and uncertainty inspired Ludovica to no end.
She loved running. She loved chasing, and she loved invoking fear in people around her. Perhaps there was one thing she liked about life, after all--how much it feared death.
"Board games?" Life prompted. She thought for a moment, not sure how to feel. "Board games... what kind of board games? I feel like I haven't played one of those in forever."
She really hadn't touched one in forever, had she? And to think, humans had so much fun with them. Life had fun playing them too, in completely honesty. Which was weird, because in the end, all they were was a concept. Concepts, thrown into one larger concept and given elements of amusement to distract people from the world that was quickly dying around them.
Life furrowed her brow.
Board games weren't made to distract from misery. What was she thinking? Did she always have to take such a dreary, pessimistic look on things?
Board games were made so people could enjoy life. Which, perhaps, was the same as distracting from misery, but Life decided not to think about that.
Humans knew what had been given to them, and they chose to enjoy it because they knew it was sacred. There was no point in moping when they had an entire life ahead of them, after all.
So why did Life mope so much?
Was there really a point in moping? What did it do? It didn't solve any problems, and it certainly didn't make life any more glorious. Looking at things optimistically was how you appreciated the rain. If things like death, darkness and tragedy didn't exist, then happiness wouldn't mean anything, so perhaps Life needed to take a new perspective on this.
"You know," Life said, "we should talk about something other than the entities. Well--maybe not entirely, because there's a definite possibility that they're on our tail, but we should talk about something enlightening as well. Otherwise, we're just going to be sad."
She paused, thinking.
"With that said, I go back to my question from earlier--what kinds of board games did you play?"
Kayin pretended as though he was trying to remember. "Hmmm, I'm not sure. The description sounds familiar, but I've killed so many things that it's hard to tell."
He closed his eyes, mulling over what to say next.
"Wait, it might've been. Yes, I think it was. Was it? Hold on a moment, I need to clear my mind. Like I said, I've killed so many people. I'm numb to the pain I cause. I don't even pay attention to who I kill, it's just kill and move on."
He started to worry again. He was always worrying.
Kayin wasn't sure how long he wanted to lead his mother on. There was a chance she'd grow anxious and start to seek out Life, leaving Kayin, or she'd get fed up with his game and leave, or maybe just totally dismiss him and his apparently fumbled memory, or...
Please stay, Kayin thought, almost desperately.