2024-06-09 - Stitch, Sew, Felted Doll

Patchwork was tiny, still barely developed the first time Patchwork becomes aware of having a body smaller and realer than expected. That there is more to Patchwork than just an expanse of a mind. Something was there that Patchwork was connected to. Maybe something that Patchwork was? Was or controlled, but even that concept was too vague and abstract for Patchwork to really hold on to.

Patchwork's body moved in a sudden spasm, budding neurons firing without any proper return of sensation. The warm temperature inside this egg was the same as Patchwork's own body, offering no input of what was Patchwork and what wasn't. Wherever Patchwork was felt weightless, suspended and there was no shift in pressure. But there had been a sensation of movement in reaction to what Patchwork had done. Some forming sensor within Patchwork's head that gave an idea of up or down and what was the right way up. That was all Patchwork could detect without guidance.

Slowly, carefully, Patchwork reached back and brushed against Mother's mine with clumsy uncertainty.

Patchwork didn't know how to differentiate between a neck, a back, a tail - but still knew there was a long cord that that ran through Mother that seemed to move everything. A cord that was in Patchwork, too. But it didn't move the way Mother moved. Then Mother had talons. She had hands that could feel, although Patchwork couldn't understand the idea of physical sensation yet. Still, the way she moved was … copy-able?
Patchwork's tiny, barely there legs flexed inwards then relaxed back out. Nothing more dexterous than little blunt nubs had formed just yet but they moved when commanded.

In creeping bursts and as Patchwork's body formed with clumsy, ungraceful squirming – Patchwork began to understand physicality.