Consternation Foundation

It took me a bit to confirm the assertion of my newly adjusted pingers, but indeed, the pattern matched. This was, no doubt, the same pensive network that had brushed passed not more than a cycle ago and during that erroneous excursion. There was motion and rapid command queuing as the long branch points maneuvered the material container back into the proximity of an energy source and purposely began a rapid transfer.

Before completion, there was a rapid pulse of signals received and processed along the compression-relaxation channel. Tokenization was difficult due to the rapidity, and the tone was somewhat alien to what had occurred on the pleasing day of counting points against the brightness. Flummoxed might have been an accurate description had I known the word at the time, but that may have been the description of my reactions at the time as well.

Regardless of my interpretation, it was clear that there was a genuine inquiry upon the network that was contained in the personage of the caller. It was such that the juxtaposition triggered faint tendrils of fear and apathy at the same time, yet, there was something more behind the reaction of my host's central network. It was then that I recognized the familiar unfamiliar sensation of the whorl, and the odd guidance that it offered to the network.