Vindico

Full Version: Escape, Be Free [Aulë]
You're currently viewing a stripped down version of our content. View the full version with proper formatting.
Pages: 1 2
<center><Table width=500px><tr><td>         
Azure surfaces barricaded against the land, giving trial to land dwellers, restricting movement to a limited area. Lapping against the shores, seemingly harmless to observe, it shelters secrets beyond the eyes sight. Untold stories lay dormant on the bed, slumbering in peace beneath well-fit blankets, only to be disturbed by the dwellers. Venturing upon the expanse was a death wish, for the invisible jaws lurked below, snapping with impatience. Once they struck, possibility of mercy was swiped from the surface, and whisked away into the churning depths below. Sly creatures, fangs would grasp at the limbs, dragging down the individual alive.  A barrier of resistance, the thin veil slips between lungs and oxygen, dipping downwards to coat a screaming throat. In silence one may be stolen away, vanishing without a trace. Not even the shadows could mimic the methods of the cruel oceans, and yet, none suspect the hidden power of the calm ways; illusions have their way of materializing.
 
Paws slipped along the sands, becoming engulfed with each lashing of the ocean’s embrace. Waters lacking the sun’s delicate touch swirl around coal black pillars. Unable to pass through, ripples encircled the columns, and brushing through hairs. With its arch, transparent liquid glittered in the light, minute gems floating along the surface before returning to their home. Mimicking the pillars movement, two gaping holes swiftly flooded by grains. Faint dips remained, indicating the place where the moving figure once stood. Frontal paws coated in salt, with an irritating flick drips flew from the tips of ebony strands, reuniting with their home. Burning fires lifted from the serene blues, turning direction from the view of faint jagged lines and toward the lush forests. Within it stumbled life, roaming about- utterly oblivious to the lands that held more resources for food. How small the world must be for habitants of this island? Despite such thoughts, Widow’s travels ended up on the banks of the isle. From first glance there was no unique touch to it. In silence it stood, foliage twining along trees to form a wall from visibility. Anything could be lurking, and with the winds desire to rush to the lands, the observer would remain undetected until desiring to emerge.
 
What creature would willingly choose to strand themselves in isolation. Cast afar from land, a trek by foot would be short, and the effort to return would likely strain muscles of both young and old. Did life abandon the island? The lack of songs indicated a flock’s absence, and critters did not scurry across the sands since Widow’s arrival. Nature spared her creations the torment of travelling, eliminating the island from existence ultimately. Secluded, it could easily be a spot to seek solitude when required. Flee to perhaps if cases got extreme. Shifting paws from the sand’s containment, the figure wandered along the shore encasing the isle. This was the world of the forsaken, where secrets could be hidden and none would glance twice upon it. 
</td></tr></table></center>
<center><link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cantata+One' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><div style="background: #040103 url('http://i.imgur.com/fNl65vl.png') no-repeat top; width: 500px; margin: 0 auto 0 auto;"><div style="padding-right: 25px; padding-left: 25px; padding-top: 550px; padding-bottom: 10px; font-family: 'Cantata One', 'Georgia' serif; text-align:justify; font-size:10px; color: #371c24"><font style="font-size:50pt; line-height:10px;">T</font>he temptation to explore, to see this foreign world was far to intense to ignore, far to much to cast aside for the young spirit. For so long, his entire life really, Aulë had been hidden within his secluded fortress of shadow and muffled sound. He had only seen the light peeking from beyond the bend, tantalizing with its promise of new worlds, new spirits to encounter. Yet, to remain he did, for his mothers sake, her commands clear in the means of staying put. But, no matter how many times the brakes were flipped, temptation grew heavier, strangling his excuses to concede to rule and law. Besides, it would only be for a moment, a few minutes to explore, feel the touch of leaves upon his body that hadn't been plucked and set to line nest. To see the light pierce through the clouds of green above, and filter down through the quiet to touch the pale earth. The whole island was made of this ashen sand, the walls of his hidden kingdom soft and grainy where he touched, the marks of mother still fresh upon the edge where she had dug in.
<p>
It was quiet here, in the moments where his emerald lady left to consume flesh to sustain them. Each day he grew, yet, his reliance on her nourishment had yet to wean itself from his existence. Taking gentle steps, slowly peeking out from behind the dens wall, he tempted a glance into the goliath halls. Above, the barren trunks of palm rising high, their undercarriage swollen with ripening seeds, massive hairy things that scattered along the ground where they fell. He remembered just the other day, how with a thundering snap, the sphere had taken the tumble, rolling along the slopping stalk, only to drop mere feet before his tiny frame. With a cautious leer, he skimmed the edge of the clearing, a little mauve nymph working to escape gilded cage. To the beach he roamed, eager to explore, unsteady legs slowing gaining their own confidence, their own purpose as the youth tended to. 
<p>
It was quiet on the lonesome stretch of sand, the final moments of the day swiftly approaching, the sky a collage of the ruddish hues of imperfection. Wondrous eyes looked to the heavens, his heavy veil waving, inky silk upon the ground. Stepping high, he stumbled towards the water, bravery given by his high of independence. Leaning down, sniffing at the foam, he yipped in shock and leaped back when the tide washed forward.
<br>
<font style="color:#732a38;"><b>"Talk here."</b></font>
<br>
</div><div style="width: 250px; background-color: #040103; padding: 6px; color: #999; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 10px;margin-top: -8px; font-family: tahoma; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;">Table by Argent | Art by Yumpy</div></div>
<center><Table width=500px><tr><td>         
Gentle lashings against the sore; the only sound joining the whistling wind. A rhythmic pattern, steady, slow, becoming a lullaby to those passing by. Breaking glass hills onto the sands of the untouched beach, the waves maintained their motions even with the winds alteration of path. Its shift brushed strands from a pelt to take flight, joining the dancing feathers flickering on the breeze. Ivory auds rimmed with red burrowed back into the skull, irritated with a wind’s furious tale. The whispers, though coaxing, amplified within the lobes, prickling the wanderer with irritation. Though the waves nearest seemed unaffected, those afar rolled to mimic the wind’s path, trailing after it. As though in a constant chase, they leapt, one after another, heading to an unknown destination. The split in directions baffled Widow as she observed the two sections. Breaking waves barely deterred from their straight path while those a far appeared to be moving away entirely.
 
With the winds, a new scent drifted towards the wanderer- the scent of another wolf…almost.  Tilting her head, the particles tickled her nose with familiarity, but an overlying dimension woven into it deterred from the expected. Unable to pinpoint the answer, the figure’s strides continued, indifferent. Was this the secret of the isle, the reason for its abandonment? Her theory of it being an unspoken sanctuary began to tantalize into becoming the truth. The wolf intrigued her, its scent skimming upon the threads of memories but an answer would not paint itself before her. Succumbing to questions, she swam in her thoughts, pressing against the current of images, absent from reality. Here was her sanctuary, the comforting blankets woven with care by her subconscious. As her shell trekked forth, her vision did not register the sands before her.
 
Feathers fell to the small dunes, carving tunnels through the ridges, outlining the path of her movement. A parallel path, like obsidian knives, they sliced through the soft terrain, making a path for themselves. From beneath her nose, the scent disappeared, yanking her trailing mind back onto the barren expanse of the beach. Shifting to another direction, the wind ruffled through her pelt, whisking away her object of curiosity.  Staring ahead, scanning the exposed landscape, the void of life stretched a short distance before curving away, lost to the lush forest. Nothing flinted across her vision, all remained in its place, the abnormal lost to her. A search short-lived, the smooth, untouched sands lay before her. Exhaling a sigh, the efforts to track down the creature would be extraneous. However, the underlying desire to discover the anomaly scorched her brain. 
</td></tr></table></center>
<center><link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cantata+One' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><div style="background: #040103 url('http://i.imgur.com/fNl65vl.png') no-repeat top; width: 500px; margin: 0 auto 0 auto;"><div style="padding-right: 25px; padding-left: 25px; padding-top: 550px; padding-bottom: 10px; font-family: 'Cantata One', 'Georgia' serif; text-align:justify; font-size:10px; color: #371c24"><font style="font-size:50pt; line-height:10px;">H</font>e wandered what lay out there, hidden beneath the deep waters, a lost world of magic and fantasy which lay locked forever from those who wandered the earth. He wandered what it was, that made it so he could never live in those waters, what made it so he had to come up for air, or even just what it was that made him need to breath in the first place. These complicated, difficult inquires to life were all part of growing up, and the insufferable job lay on that of parent and guardian. To answer these questions; the who, the what, the where, and most of all, the why? They were a constant mandala that drove even the most sane wolf mad. To deal with a child, far more inquisitive than most, like Aulë, it was a mystery to the patience of dearest mother. Yet it was a question he would gladly remain unanswered.
<p><p>
Far more important questions remained in constant whirlwind within his thoughts; why the sun rose and fell, why birds could fly, yet wolves couldn't. Why was the sky blue? Why were there no other wolves on this island? These were the questions that ruled him in any given day, his ever expanding world reaching out, desiring to own the key concepts to this fabulous phenomena known as existence. It made him a difficult child in the means of control, always wanting to push that extra mile, that hidden land just beyond the next bend. Yet it conflicted with his innate desire to please, to keep mother happy, and keep her close, having not quite come into the need of true severing. No, he was still quite dependent on her, no matter how much he liked to fool himself into these moment of rebellion. As the world wasn't quite big enough just yet. 
<p><p>
Looking quite discontent, Aulë had settled back upon the sand, his front paw held aloft, miniature drops of rain falling from tips of clumped fur. The water of the ocean was weird. It tasted odd and left him even more thirsty than he had been before, and its shore more brutal than the slight stream that could be found near its centre. Huffing, sullen, he flopped back, his tail sprawling out in reams of cloth, leaving the boy a manifestation of dark upon the pale surface. Looking to the left, he watched the lazy movements of the water, the soft light radiating from the sun, and the ripples along the surface of the trees. At a distance, he could see one of the islands seafaring birds taking a stroll, its bright blue feet plucking through the sand. <font style="color:#732a38;"><b>"So bored,"</b></font> he pouted, rolling onto his back, noting the clouds peeling out from a distant smudge on the horizon.<br />
<br>
<font style="color:#732a38;"><b>"Talk here."</b></font>
<br>
</div><div style="width: 250px; background-color: #040103; padding: 6px; color: #999; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 10px;margin-top: -8px; font-family: tahoma; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;">Table by Argent | Art by Yumpy</div></div>
<center><Table width=500px><tr><td>         
Tangled webs draped from limbs, twisting, secluding mysteries of the island. Shrouded by vines, what inventions lurked, creeping within the shadows? Did their jaws itch for flesh, yearning to bite into the next living being that crossed into the darkness? Alive, the tendrils snaked their trails, coiling in anticipation of striking. Surrendering to their seizure, gray-scaled hues took arms against crimson speckles. Engulfing the vibrant tones, the darkness snuggled against the feathers. Here the light could not penetrate the leaves. Immune, the shadows festered, claiming the wandering figure as their own. Ebony structure lost its dimension as the light became stripped away, lost to the sun’s glare the strands returned to their nightly state. A starless night, the moon shattered in two, dipped in blood of those below. Structured by a gentle hand, the crafter spent eons perfecting the creature to defy the laws of earth’s surface. A blessing, an abomination, many carried traits diverted from a specie’s origins. A droplet never truly mimicked the shape of its parent. It may carry the tones, but it remained unique- like a snowflake.
 
Clinging to the shade, the body’s core temperature plummeted steadily. Without a fire pressing against the skin, wandering became a durable objective. However, one’s main goal rarely remained the same. Maintaining the original course paws steadily advanced forth, carrying a lithe frame. Though the scent guiding the stalking shell vanished, she remained on the course where it flickered across before. Amongst the ashen coatings, a dash of colour emerged, life seeming to spring from the clutches of the dead. Petite, even from afar, the blot’s movements were minute. A shrunken version of the designated design, the frail creature seemed at peace, venturing about just as Widow did. Unable to trust her eyes, crimson pools narrowed mildly, focusing on the single trace of life. The insanity of confining a pup to the island, isolating it from the world, was this the island’s beloved secret? A single soul pressing about the landscape, lost, free, the female knew not.
 
Intentions did not rest on observation. After sauntering about, she yearned to allow air rush past vocal cords, stringing a melody of syllables. Solitude was not the taste she preferred, and thus, skirted in the shadows, she moved toward the miniature wolf.  It flopped into the sands, as though giving up on its journey, deciding to rest where it stood. Boredom took reign- by her best guess, and like herself, it would wish to escape the containment that was rising around the mind. Her route of entertainment rested on the tiny shoulders. Sure she dealt with pups before, but they were related to her, and boundaries were not applicable to bloodlines. Unlike before, her figure was immense to the size of the youngling’s. It was jut a frail little being, new to the world, unaware of the dangers that existed. “Tell me, does your mother know you escaped the den, or did you ask for her blessing beforehand?” 
</td></tr></table></center>
<center><link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cantata+One' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><div style="background: #040103 url('http://i.imgur.com/fNl65vl.png') no-repeat top; width: 500px; margin: 0 auto 0 auto;"><div style="padding-right: 25px; padding-left: 25px; padding-top: 550px; padding-bottom: 10px; font-family: 'Cantata One', 'Georgia' serif; text-align:justify; font-size:10px; color: #371c24"><font style="font-size:50pt; line-height:10px;">T</font>he heavens were truly a place of bliss, of an endless possibility to the potential beyond. He wondered often of their little place, here upon the island, far from any other being. He'd never seen another... like them. Were there others like them? Other... wolves. Thats what he could remember his mother calling them, in those moments when the weather contained their wanders to the den. Lessons of a world he had never seen, of things he had never seen. Great towering cliffs, water flying from upon its peak. Of immense groups of animals lumbering through endless fields of grass. It was a magical place his mother spun into existence in her low voice, a reverence of a lost beautiful, a precious stone she held close to her heart. She missed this mirror, this image of abstract hues Aulë had woven. He knew not just what lay out there, beyond the waters, upon the horizon where the blues and whites faded into darkness, a smear of land far away. There were times, as he lay within the warm sands, watching the light play tricks on his mind, the the pup would dream of the journey, the passage of distance and time, and what monsters lay hidden on foreign land. There, he would be the stranger, far away from their little island, and the cool den beneath the palms. Yet, how intriguing was this promise.
<p><p>
Sighing now, laying upon his back, Aulë could only see the blue yonder, the purest sky he had seen. Not a cloud was in sight, the threads of egg shell blue canvas barren of smeared paint. Ears cocked, listening to the soft shuffle of sand upon fur, he wondered how long it would take until the sun vanished, dipping just beneath the darkness in the distance. He’d never seen a sun fall, long having been ushered back into the nest. It was a curious thought, to see something new, a familiar feeling for the pup as of this moment. Seeing things new and foreign to him, a constant influx of the mysteries upon which his life would lead, a beautiful fantasy of angels whom walked amongst them. Breathing deep, he watched the whimsical story dance upon the twilight hour, his body relaxing, sinking further into the sand, his mind far away, in a land he had never seen, yet, held a deep set connection, written upon his bones.
<p><p>
Yet, there was something amiss in his little world, a sound that drew his attentions, a buzzing of an insect to close to the ear. Each movement was slow, careful in a way a child would do when coming upon something they couldn’t comprehend. The slow swish of his tail halted, even as he tilted back his head, peering at the intruders upside down body. A wolf… a winged wolf. Eyes widening, Aulë rolled his petite body over, shuffling back as he took in the towering willow. She was huge, bigger even than mother, and dark as the night sky when the moon left for greener pastures. Red like the blood that seeped from a fresh kill, and white like the sands, weaving through his onyx body. Suddenly feeling shy, noticing how intent he was in his inspection, he looked down, ears folding back over his head, sniffing at the fluff that lined his chest. <font style="color:#732a38;"><b>”N-n-nno,"</b></font> he mumbled, his words barely audible, a whisper devoured by the soft breeze, lilac eyes glancing up at her when teeth worried black lip.
<br>
<font style="color:#732a38;"><b>"Talk here."</b></font>
<br>
</div><div style="width: 250px; background-color: #040103; padding: 6px; color: #999; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 10px;margin-top: -8px; font-family: tahoma; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;">Table by Argent | Art by Yumpy</div></div>
<center><Table width=500px><tr><td>           
A frail shell, dressed in a thin layer of skin and padded with fur. So easily destructible, how could the parent of such critter permit it to leave the safety of the den when forces stronger than it could easily take over. Unpredictable events could seize him, the water surrounding the island may rise with fury, breach its containment to gain another victim. Creaking branches may snap under the shift of weight, or becoming shed as a result of a trees age. Oblivious to the dangers around him, the soul ventured out from the protective eye, unintentionally placing himself at risk. Body shifting at the sight of another approach, orbs mimicking the colour of spring’s flowers appeared to take up the entire dial. If eyelids crept any further he may as well have turned into a nocturnal beast, hooting in the night, neck twisting in manners which Widow’s blood occasionally displayed. A fraction of her mind remained devoted to observing the twin moons, every inch filled by the spectacular flowers, barely revealing the ivory whites surrounding them. A flightless chick, its pelt bore the strangest array of colours. Darkness of the night wove in, tinted with hues of an Arhopala Herculus butterfly. Soft wings allowed the colour to drain into the strands of the critter’s pelt, growing in vibrancy before fading into the nightly sky. In the later hours of the night he may be undetectable, a portion of the night resting upon a hill, taking a choice of his vantage point- if he survived that long. Considering his wandering habits, one could question the parents’ involvement in watch-keeping; that was where the fun of sneaking evolved from.
 
Its tones were sharp, stumbling over one another in an effort to communicate. Fear vibrated within every inch of him, oddly enough nearly triggering a sense of pity toward the youngling. It had much to learn of the world, and this likely being one of its first adventures only devoted to the burning cowardice. If the beastly mother was close, Widow’s neck would be at stake if she spotted the trembling pup. Bestowing a ring of breathing room, Widow stood afar, just barely within her leaping distance. Limbs that carried it were still in awkward proportions to its body, casting the appearance of a ball of dark cotton. If this was the company she sought, there at least needed to be an outcome of it all. Flicking her long banner across the sands, her ears perked forward, and a joyful glint rose within the pool of bleeding roses. “Hush now, child,” she spoke softly, “you are brave for venturing out into the world. Tell me of what wonders you have discovered, what adventures you hope to quest upon?” Hoping it would take the bait of a distraction, she spun up a question to which youngsters may easily ramble on, only occasionally pausing for breath. There was a first for everything, the adventuring away from the den set a sense of independence from parental care, influencing the young to grow up quickly. She was not about to ruin his memorable moment with a trauma, perhaps he would even gain a tale out of it all.
</td></tr></table></center>
<center><link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cantata+One' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><div style="background: #040103 url('http://i.imgur.com/fNl65vl.png') no-repeat top; width: 500px; margin: 0 auto 0 auto;"><div style="padding-right: 25px; padding-left: 25px; padding-top: 550px; padding-bottom: 10px; font-family: 'Cantata One', 'Georgia' serif; text-align:justify; font-size:10px; color: #371c24"><font style="font-size:50pt; line-height:10px;">A</font> dove, a holy beast heralded from the gilded halls. She was winged, an angel, a being brought about only in tales woven in the failing hours, where whispered words breathed life into a realm that may not have existed at all. He watched her, the careful steps that put scant metres between shared companionship, his lilac eyes wide in mysticism, spectacle of what lay before him. Another wolf, another creature new and foreign, a heart which beat beyond his own chest, and that of mothers. He wandered where she came from, when she had arrived, and what she had seen. It was a sudden realization that she could have come from beyond the tiny island of all he had ever known, the roll of the shore upon breaking dawn, where water waters distilled the whiter still sands. Sniffing, his tongue dry, sticking to the roof of his mouth, Aulë stood silent for a moment, tail fidgeting with each pass of the cool breeze.
<p><p>
All around them, the sounds of the water could be heard, the swish and the roll, the rumble and hum. He knew how small this place truly was, the stretch of sand familiar, yet foreign all the same. Who knew of the stories she could tell, of the mysteries of the mainland, of the creatures spun into existence by the mere passage of words. Perhaps she could share in adventures, even as his ears perked forward in beseeching of his own plans. A scheme, a future destiny placed in the mind of young heart. Suddenly intrigued, the harsh weight at the back of his throat seemed to wash away, encouraged by her sedate paces and easy question. Stumbling forward, pausing for a moment, he looked up, his rump falling to the ground as his head tilted back. <font style="color:#732a38;"><b>"Have you been the to mainland? Do you know what a deer looks like? O-oh, what bear? Momma says that deer are our food or something. I want to go to the mainland but she said I'm too young to go yet."</b></font> Frowning, ears folding back, he peeked up at her, suddenly gazed with a far greater intensity than most children could pull off. <font style="color:#732a38;"><b>"Can you fly?"</b></font>

<br>
<font style="color:#732a38;"><b>"Talk here."</b></font>
<br>
</div><div style="width: 250px; background-color: #040103; padding: 6px; color: #999; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 10px;margin-top: -8px; font-family: tahoma; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;">Table by Argent | Art by Yumpy</div></div>
<center><Table width=500px><tr><td>           

Bless the sheltered soul, secluded from harm, permitted to grow old in the containment of its sire’s choosing. But the blessing acted as a curse, encircling the curious mind to a containment one could deem inescapable. Guarded by the forces of nature, only a violent fighter may rise from the earth, bare fangs, and call weakness on the tumbling waves. A distance swiftly covered by the air, from ground the ocean’s glazed surface stretched an eternity, barely betraying the land jutting upwards against the smooth crest of the horizon. With such isolation she may the first stranger, living being which was not prey that the lilac orbs rested upon. There was almost a sense of pity residing in her heart toward the thing, it’s growing shell would become soft, adjusting to a land with no threats until another like herself would set foot, perhaps the future visitor’s blood may lust for a war- to claim the land as his own. A soldier destined to suffer, a meaningless life stretched before his young paws. The glittering wonder would eventually die, leaving behind a shrivelled flower, absent of life. The fire within his limbs would run cold, returning to embers, waiting to be tended.
 
Its small frame moved closer, each movement deliberate, yet it appeared clumsy, and promptly fell upon the ground, in a manner mimicking settling. Full attention directed toward her, it was odd to see a youngster decide to be motionless. Without hesitation it leapt onto encouraging lines, the stumbling syllables absent as a swift flow fell from his tongue. Not one question could be answered before another arose, she could barely catch a moment to cut him off as he spoke enthusiastically. The curious nature, defaulted onto the young mind took its reign, relinquishing all prior caution and focusing only upon what could be attained. She was the treasure box, shadowing the truth that the youngster would know not. It spoke of eventually visiting the mainland, but she doubted the period’s arrival would be sudden, he still had much growing to accomplish in order to battle the elements. Alas a pause took shape, filling the air, surrounding the young one’s final question. Widow could not resist but allow a smile to rest upon her features, the youngster’s liveliness and wonder was wearing off on her. “I live upon the main lands and call them home, just as you do here. There are creatures of all shapes and sizes that wander; a deer, a rabbit, ranging in sizes and colours.” She spoke softly, but enthusiasm skimmed the ends of her sentence, lifting it in pitch as she attempted to mimic the tones of storytellers she heard prior. Hindquarters pressing against the sands, carving out a throne for her to sit on, the dense banner trailing behind her swept along the sands, resting nearly parallel to her flank.
 
“I have seen bears, and creatures of power with jaws that would gleam even without light,” Widow continued, “and one day you will see them all, when you are larger, with strength equal to theirs.” She could not differentiate between the facts it desired to know, and the fillers of where the mind was sprinting through thoughts to find its true goal. With that in mind she kept a list in the back of her mind, to assure herself each point was properly addressed. But it was the final sentence that burdened the critter’s consciousness the most, his facial features indicated so before she begun to speak. Stretching out the appendages, tri toned textures embraced the oncoming breeze. Only mildly revealed, she dared not display their full length, wishing not to overwhelm her youthful company. “The winds are my pathways,” she replied indirectly, unsure if he would register it to be an answer, but as she spoke a new plan unwove itself- the true adventure any grounded being could succumb to. “Would you like to join me?”
</td></tr></table></center>
<center><link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cantata+One' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><div style="background: #040103 url('http://i.imgur.com/fNl65vl.png') no-repeat top; width: 500px; margin: 0 auto 0 auto;"><div style="padding-right: 25px; padding-left: 25px; padding-top: 550px; padding-bottom: 10px; font-family: 'Cantata One', 'Georgia' serif; text-align:justify; font-size:10px; color: #371c24"><font style="font-size:50pt; line-height:10px;">A</font> world beyond his own comprehension, a world where magic and stories whispered by his mother came to life, and became more than just words on the wind, and half formed figments within his thoughts. For a moment, he was intrigued, enraptured by the idea of realism behind those shared dreams, those timbits of information worthy enough to find attentions by his emerald lady. For surely, if she gave the time to breathe life into their beings, only power could be found. Aulë remembered the words his mother used to describe the things he had seen, and had experienced. The sea, its endless blue surprise unconquerable to all but those with the strength to surge its waves; and even than, it was only temporary. Emersion of its waters brought only death to the men and women of the land and sky, their life snuffed under white waters. Some could say these were hardly the tales a mother should share with a child so young. But than, to be prepared was the duty of a mother, was it not? To instil the knowledge for progeny to pass on through life, and become more than a statistic. He’d thought what it meant to be a child dearest mother would be proud of, a creature she bore and raised, brought into the world, and bearer of her name. He knew not what it meant, for his young mind had yet to grasp such manful concept, their complexity drawing him into a confounded mishap until at last he surrendered, and turned to simpler tasks, such as exploration of their tiny kingdom, and learning of the world he was blessed to know.
<p><p>
Perhaps he was but a child who knew not a thing, doomed to live his life in perpetual naivety and ignorance. Yet, with each passing moment, he learned just a little more, became just a little more aware. Like the passing of the seas, the endless tides that rolled upon pristine sands, bringing with them the song of the deep, he’d become imprinted, the once smooth surface of his mind folding and bending beneath an influx of change. Looking at this foreign creature now, her bodice mared by the blackest of night, and the brightest of day, the touch of copper red upon her slope. His slight head would tilt, watching her, curious of this strange oddity that had come to his island. She’d share words, words that fell into unison with those of his mothers, and it would only prove to him the marvellous existence that prevailed beyond his sands. His whole body seemed to vibrate, atuned to the notion of what he would see once he left, once his mother decided he was strong enough to make the journey. It mattered not about the seas, the open waters that lay between him and his goal. A child of bare sentient thoughts, he seemed unconcerned with the consequences, and dangers. Instead, he’d move just so ever closer to his new find, bright, lilac eyes the tone of a dusk moon gazed upon her, settling in front of his, leaning forward, his long tail like that of an eel, shifting beneath his slight frame.
<p><p>
<font style="color:#732a38;"><b>”Rabbit… whats a rabbit?"</b></font> he asked, confusion glinting in his eyes, only to purr in pride at her proclamation of his own future strength. Yes, he would be strong, like his mother. He’d be strong for her, so they could live without fear, without the prospect of creatures with gleaming jaws. Her wings would open, and he’d pause in his thoughts, watching as the trichromial feathers opened, spreading out along the invisible air, their edges torn from the strong gales, yet, holding true to purpose. Humming, he edged forward, amazed by their size, even though they were still only partially open. Their expanse shut out the sun, leaving but faint paths of light to dapple his face, small ears pulled upright as he leaned back, looking up at her. <font style="color:#732a38;"><b>”Join you where?"</b></font>
<br>
<font style="color:#732a38;"><b>"Talk here."</b></font>
<br>
</div><div style="width: 250px; background-color: #040103; padding: 6px; color: #999; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 10px;margin-top: -8px; font-family: tahoma; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;">Table by Argent | Art by Yumpy</div></div>
Pages: 1 2