Silas bit back an exasperated sigh. All day he had felt a scrutinizing glare burning into the back of his head.
The first hour he had shrugged it off, but as the clock ticked away the minutes and one hour wore into the next, and the next after that, and still into noon, a cold sense of trepidation and unease began to fill him.
Where was Neiro when he needed him? He hadn't seen him since breakfast and though he loathed to admit it, his presence in this predicament would have been reassuring. Particularly so when whoever it was tailing him was keeping him from acting.
Saturday, April 30, 2016
Friday, April 22, 2016
North Star: Lore Anlalysis - The Plague
Prior to the beginnings of North Star, her rural home was swept up in a terrifying unknown outbreak which would result in the light of many being snuffed before their time.
The quiet and small town she called home was promptly put under quarantine as the epidemic spread. The disease discriminated little and children, adults, and elderly alike took ill and succumbed to its fatal grip, and while those who lost grieved, many more were overtaken by its virulence.
Yet as swiftly as it had come, did it subside, and with it all traces concerning the origin and source. The cause would never be identified and the unresolved case closed as the years passed.
The plague took both her parents, but oddly enough had left their child untouched.
To the surprise of the surveillance team upon reentry, they found the child beside her parents's bed, severely dehydrated and famished, but alive.
How the pestilence that had purged so many, passed over her alone is unknown, and despite a thorough examination, was never uncovered.
Rain was then taken in by a relative in the suburbs hence where the story starts.
The quiet and small town she called home was promptly put under quarantine as the epidemic spread. The disease discriminated little and children, adults, and elderly alike took ill and succumbed to its fatal grip, and while those who lost grieved, many more were overtaken by its virulence.
Yet as swiftly as it had come, did it subside, and with it all traces concerning the origin and source. The cause would never be identified and the unresolved case closed as the years passed.
The plague took both her parents, but oddly enough had left their child untouched.
To the surprise of the surveillance team upon reentry, they found the child beside her parents's bed, severely dehydrated and famished, but alive.
How the pestilence that had purged so many, passed over her alone is unknown, and despite a thorough examination, was never uncovered.
Rain was then taken in by a relative in the suburbs hence where the story starts.
Wednesday, April 13, 2016
Snippets and Stories: (WtI) Dream Walking: Dragon's Cove (Pt. 1)
When he opened his eyes it wasn't to familiarity. Things seemed out of place though he could reason little why they were, and the sight that greeted him though tickled at his memory, was of a recollection nonexistent.
Before him was the sight of a cavern, if it could be called that, so large that he had thought them out in open waters. Even straining his eyes over the dark waters of the ocean he could see no end to it. The sky itself was but an inky stygian expanse of what he assumed to be the cavern wall, stretching from horizon to horizon. In the setting sun, stars rose in the form of crystalline structures and mineral deposits that twinkled in the faint dusk light.
Before him was the sight of a cavern, if it could be called that, so large that he had thought them out in open waters. Even straining his eyes over the dark waters of the ocean he could see no end to it. The sky itself was but an inky stygian expanse of what he assumed to be the cavern wall, stretching from horizon to horizon. In the setting sun, stars rose in the form of crystalline structures and mineral deposits that twinkled in the faint dusk light.
"Where...?"
A touch on his hand startled him and he whirled around to see a worried pair of odd eyes staring into his own.
"Sy?"
Neiro. The brunette swallowed dryly and turned back to the port town. His head felt oddly heavy and his thoughts muddled.
With a groan he felt his knees give and he fell heavily onto his haunches.
The albino was at his side steadying him by the arm before he felt the ground.
"Sy take it easy, you almost drowned from the shipwreck a few days prior. The doc says you shouldn't even be up."
"A shipwreck?" Briefly the image of brackish waters frothy and roiling with nature's might, the clash of thunder overhead and the drenching downpour whose droplets were not of water but the essence of frigidity itself, and leeched from his very marrow the warmth of life.
Neiro gave him a strange look and without warning, pressed a small hand to his temple, "Do you remember what happened?"
The hand moved to the back of his neck, and despite its icy touch, it was oddly soothing.
It came back to him little by little and he wondered where the memories came from, for it was almost dream like. Still, there were pieces missing.
There was something strange about the whole thing.
"Neiro why did we come here?"
The albino smiled dryly, as usual it was more of a statement than a question. Figures that even without recollection, the man was proud still. Aside to himself he murmured, "Lacunar amnesia then, though you were quite feverish."
"And what happenstance is it that you believe I've forgotten?"
The albino stared him down, seemingly searching his eyes before beckoning to him. Confused, Silas nonetheless made to stand and follow his companion.
"We were on our way to convene for Walpurgis, but the vessel we boarded lost its way in Sea Bog."
They left the streets up a sinuous trail to a more secluded area. Despite being foreigners to the city, Neiro seemed oddly familiar with the layout of the city, barely stalling at crossroads and forks as he retold their travel tales, "Long story short the navigators ended up wandering into Dread Zone. A hydra got to us before we could escape back into calm waters."
Once there Neiro beckons him over once more and he obliges, settling on the bench beside the short man, "We gained approval and rights for temporary docking at Dragon's Cove for repairs and the like. We made it in one piece, obviously, but well..." Neiro trailed off, thoughtful, and brought a small hand up to rest on his sternum, palpating gently over the pliable skin and flesh before moving and doing the same behind his neck and along his jaw.
His initial reaction was to jerk away from the intrusion upon his personal space, but the gentle pressure he found soothing and the tension in his muscles melted away, dissipating with the gentle massage.
Silas hummed, feeling feeling oddly at ease as he lounged back.
"And what happenstance is it that you believe I've forgotten?"
The albino stared him down, seemingly searching his eyes before beckoning to him. Confused, Silas nonetheless made to stand and follow his companion.
"We were on our way to convene for Walpurgis, but the vessel we boarded lost its way in Sea Bog."
They left the streets up a sinuous trail to a more secluded area. Despite being foreigners to the city, Neiro seemed oddly familiar with the layout of the city, barely stalling at crossroads and forks as he retold their travel tales, "Long story short the navigators ended up wandering into Dread Zone. A hydra got to us before we could escape back into calm waters."
Once there Neiro beckons him over once more and he obliges, settling on the bench beside the short man, "We gained approval and rights for temporary docking at Dragon's Cove for repairs and the like. We made it in one piece, obviously, but well..." Neiro trailed off, thoughtful, and brought a small hand up to rest on his sternum, palpating gently over the pliable skin and flesh before moving and doing the same behind his neck and along his jaw.
His initial reaction was to jerk away from the intrusion upon his personal space, but the gentle pressure he found soothing and the tension in his muscles melted away, dissipating with the gentle massage.
Silas hummed, feeling feeling oddly at ease as he lounged back.
The memories had yet to return it seemed.
"Indeed we are to escape unscathed. Hydras are a formidable force to be reckoned with."
Neiro winced, and his hand faltered before he continued in a lower voice, "... We're lucky because of where we landed. This is one of the few places Wyrmwort is said to grow."
Wyrmwort Scales. A bracket fungus named so for their striking resemblance to the scattered scales that adorn the draconic hide of a mighty serpent and used specifically for their potent property to suppress draconian influence.
It was said to grow only on soil that had been seeped with draconic magic, imparted through the diffusion from the imbued breath, blood, bone, or flesh, into the surrounding earth.
Realization dawned on him then and he reached up to feel the back of his own neck, brushing Neiro aside. The albino let him.
Silas felt around, fingers pausing as they traced the odd ridges down to his collar, twisting his head but unable to catch sight of his quarry, he once more gingerly patted the area around the collar bone. A smooth glass like piece lay embedded just beneath the clavicle and above his heart. It was like shark's skin when he brushed against the grain, and he winced as its surface seemed to hook his skin, biting into and lacerated it with frightful ease.
Dark red beads blossomed across his finger and he winced.
Neiro winced, and his hand faltered before he continued in a lower voice, "... We're lucky because of where we landed. This is one of the few places Wyrmwort is said to grow."
Wyrmwort Scales. A bracket fungus named so for their striking resemblance to the scattered scales that adorn the draconic hide of a mighty serpent and used specifically for their potent property to suppress draconian influence.
It was said to grow only on soil that had been seeped with draconic magic, imparted through the diffusion from the imbued breath, blood, bone, or flesh, into the surrounding earth.
Realization dawned on him then and he reached up to feel the back of his own neck, brushing Neiro aside. The albino let him.
Silas felt around, fingers pausing as they traced the odd ridges down to his collar, twisting his head but unable to catch sight of his quarry, he once more gingerly patted the area around the collar bone. A smooth glass like piece lay embedded just beneath the clavicle and above his heart. It was like shark's skin when he brushed against the grain, and he winced as its surface seemed to hook his skin, biting into and lacerated it with frightful ease.
Dark red beads blossomed across his finger and he winced.
"Sea serpent, and barbed." he hissed and scoffed, "I take it you already have Dragon's Bane?"
Neiro nodded and removed a small vial from under his cloak, "Sorry for dodging it earlier, the locals don't take kindly to Ophidians, or anything to do with them--by choice or otherwise. If someone caught wind you'd be forcibly retained in the isolation ward if not executed."
For that he was grateful.
Glancing down, the brunette could just barely glimpse at the Crux, where the hex was anchored. The residents of Dragon's Cove were particularly fearful of dragons and all semblances and matter of the Ophidians.
Lacking in the expensive herbs, knowledge, and proper instruments for counter-curse removal, most commonfolk remedy for the "treatment" of such curses was frightfully primitive. It usually entailed an archaic and crude technique of amputation or carving out of the inflicted area, afterwards coating the whole area with purified salts and searing the gaping wound shut with a mixture of wormwood, rosemary, and a medley of other herbs to purge the remnants of taint. Though even then, any reminiscent traces of draconic essence could simply manifest itself once more and reinfect the wound.
"How long?"
"... A fortnight. The residual density of aether in this area is acting as a barrier and suppressing its advancement, but it's no less urgent for it. If we don't find the Wyrmwort we might be encroaching into the 2nd stage." Neiro pulled Silas's hand away from the scale, holding back a laugh as the other grimaced.
Now that he had noticed, the skin around the scale was awfully irritated and itched something horrible.
Frankly, the Leu was amazed that it hadn't already progressed into the 2nd stage, and his bicolored eyes trailed to the hydra's scale.
Silas in the meantime seemed to be sorting his thoughts, brow furrowed and eyes loosely shut.
It was coming back to him now. The darkness of dusk, a vicious struggle as they protected the ocean liner.
Despite being a sturdy ship of no small size, it had been of perilous footing at best and comparable to a toy boat among whitecaps. The deck has been slippery, coated by ocean spume as the sea itself crashed with a mighty roar against the galley, sending towering sprays up to crash upon the deck, giant towering waves raged around them as the sea churned.
The glowing eyes like smoldering coal as it salivated a toxic slime. Even the air had seemed congealed with its noxious breath as the colossal serpent reared its multiple heads, each unlike the other.
While one spewed magma, another howled a blizzard and rain that pelted them with hail like razors.
It had been all they could do to repel the onslaught of both the elements and the monstrous serpent.
Communion had not been an option, for the beast enraged by the brazen intrusion of an inferior species wandering into his domain and lair, was all but ready to smite them, and was about to do just that.
There had been one opening though. As the monster reared its heads in a roar that shook the thundering clouds above, he had raked the exposed underbelly, wedging a barbed arrow in the nonexistent space between the comparatively pliable scales, blood seal wrapped tight around the shaft to bind the beast.
It had worked, and the great Ophidian was paralyzed, helpless to watch as the ocean liner rode the waves unhindered, jetting off towards the Calm Sea. And soon enough the monster loomed into the distant horizon, its furious cries echoing in their ears.
But not without a parting gift.
As the adrenaline wore off, an astute throb at his chest seemed to pulse and sear deep into flesh and marrow alike.
The brunette collapsed, knees giving way as the venom entered the vessels and spread rapidly through his system.
Neiro was at his side in a moment, but what he had at first assumed to be uncharacteristic relief on his tall companion's part, soon became apparent shock as the man visibly gasped and struggled for breath.
Neiro nodded and removed a small vial from under his cloak, "Sorry for dodging it earlier, the locals don't take kindly to Ophidians, or anything to do with them--by choice or otherwise. If someone caught wind you'd be forcibly retained in the isolation ward if not executed."
For that he was grateful.
Glancing down, the brunette could just barely glimpse at the Crux, where the hex was anchored. The residents of Dragon's Cove were particularly fearful of dragons and all semblances and matter of the Ophidians.
Lacking in the expensive herbs, knowledge, and proper instruments for counter-curse removal, most commonfolk remedy for the "treatment" of such curses was frightfully primitive. It usually entailed an archaic and crude technique of amputation or carving out of the inflicted area, afterwards coating the whole area with purified salts and searing the gaping wound shut with a mixture of wormwood, rosemary, and a medley of other herbs to purge the remnants of taint. Though even then, any reminiscent traces of draconic essence could simply manifest itself once more and reinfect the wound.
"How long?"
"... A fortnight. The residual density of aether in this area is acting as a barrier and suppressing its advancement, but it's no less urgent for it. If we don't find the Wyrmwort we might be encroaching into the 2nd stage." Neiro pulled Silas's hand away from the scale, holding back a laugh as the other grimaced.
Now that he had noticed, the skin around the scale was awfully irritated and itched something horrible.
Frankly, the Leu was amazed that it hadn't already progressed into the 2nd stage, and his bicolored eyes trailed to the hydra's scale.
Silas in the meantime seemed to be sorting his thoughts, brow furrowed and eyes loosely shut.
It was coming back to him now. The darkness of dusk, a vicious struggle as they protected the ocean liner.
Despite being a sturdy ship of no small size, it had been of perilous footing at best and comparable to a toy boat among whitecaps. The deck has been slippery, coated by ocean spume as the sea itself crashed with a mighty roar against the galley, sending towering sprays up to crash upon the deck, giant towering waves raged around them as the sea churned.
The glowing eyes like smoldering coal as it salivated a toxic slime. Even the air had seemed congealed with its noxious breath as the colossal serpent reared its multiple heads, each unlike the other.
While one spewed magma, another howled a blizzard and rain that pelted them with hail like razors.
It had been all they could do to repel the onslaught of both the elements and the monstrous serpent.
Communion had not been an option, for the beast enraged by the brazen intrusion of an inferior species wandering into his domain and lair, was all but ready to smite them, and was about to do just that.
There had been one opening though. As the monster reared its heads in a roar that shook the thundering clouds above, he had raked the exposed underbelly, wedging a barbed arrow in the nonexistent space between the comparatively pliable scales, blood seal wrapped tight around the shaft to bind the beast.
It had worked, and the great Ophidian was paralyzed, helpless to watch as the ocean liner rode the waves unhindered, jetting off towards the Calm Sea. And soon enough the monster loomed into the distant horizon, its furious cries echoing in their ears.
But not without a parting gift.
As the adrenaline wore off, an astute throb at his chest seemed to pulse and sear deep into flesh and marrow alike.
The brunette collapsed, knees giving way as the venom entered the vessels and spread rapidly through his system.
Neiro was at his side in a moment, but what he had at first assumed to be uncharacteristic relief on his tall companion's part, soon became apparent shock as the man visibly gasped and struggled for breath.
In the wake of the speeding turbulent ship, leftover spume, he had lost his footing and before he could ground himself amidst the sudden strike of vertigo, intense pain, and fever, was taking in the sea.
Vaguely he heard the startled cry of his companion, and then his dizzying vision stolen in a murky shroud of icy frothy water.
The shock of cold stole what little was left of his breath, and sent him into a state of panic and in sharp contrast, soothing for the searing pain in his chest.
An arm hooked tightly around his mid and suddenly his limp form broke surface, coughing and sputtering. The rest was a blur as his companion dredged him back aboard the deck, rushing him to a cabin and stripping him of the cold wet layers that clung like a 2nd and 3rd layer of skin, though providing none of its protection.
Horrified eyes trailed the rivulets of blood that had seeped through his clothes, staining it almost black.
Small hands fumbled with their binding and tore off the shirt, jolting at the faint pulsing glow that he uncovered.
A fallen scale from the hydra's impenetrable armor blazed on his chest. In their heads and ears echoed a mighty roar as the beast laughed.
"For your arrow, Vagabond."
When Silas opened his eyes, Neiro was startled by the calm albeit irked gaze, sneering, he had commented offhandedly, "How irritating."
Silently Neiro reached back under his cloak and retrieved another 3 vials to join the Dragon's Bane he was still holding. The soft scent of what seemed to be minty chamomile and cinnamon wafted up to him as he uncorked 2 of them. The next one was not as pleasant, and he drew back as the albino uncorked the vial of pure tarragon oil. Neiro himself scrunched his face as he did so. The pungent scent was overpowering.
The third vial turned out to be empty, and his small companion decanted a portion of the other vials to mix, careful of the tea tree leaves and cinnamon bark.
Pocketing the vials he turned back to Silas, "Sorry, I would've used lavender but the apothecary didn't have any. I did manage to get a hold of some tea tree though, it's already mixed with the chamomile. "
Silas nodded and eased back as Neiro gingerly swabbed a generously steeped cloth over the crux, careful of the chaeta as it snagged the cloth. The scent was thick, almost like musk, but the potent concoction served to sooth the irritated skin.
"You look tired."
There was a noncommittal hum and Neiro laughed. The man wasn't completely right of mind yet. The fever had been overwhelming and it would b a while still before he was fit for travel.
But time was a luxury few could afford, and unfortunately they weren't among those blessed few.
Odd eyes glanced at the pulsing scale. It had been difficult enough hiding his condition as they were screened at the port. Soon enough he wouldn't be able to cover the veins creeping up his neck, and heaven forbid the locals catch wind or sight of it.
Left alone the draconic sorcery would corrupt and overtake his body. It was a wonder that Silas hadn't succumbed during the fever.
Briefly he wondered if it was truly just the dragon's bane, or whether the man's innate magic was protecting him.
Either way, they had to move deeper into the barrens of the cove where wyrmwort was rumored to grow. If the locals were to be believed, deep in the forest far from settlement was a grove, the sight of wormwood would indicate their quarry.
A groan pulled him from his thoughts and he glanced up. The invalid had dozed off.
Rest well Sy.
He smiled, "We're moving out as soon as you're up again. Sorry Sy, but you know how it goes, no rest for the weary I'm afraid."
Silas stared at the tea green walls, grunting as he propped himself on his arms. The room was silent and Neiro was fast asleep, small form curled around a pillow as he was wont to do.
It had felt disturbingly real as dreams oft did in the aftermath, but it felt different somehow, though he could not place what. The memories of a life he felt he had lived.
A mirror reflected his pale visage and blonde hair, illuminated by moonlight. That's right, he had dyed it blonde this time. Another once over of the room and he sighed, turning onto his side and pulling the covers firmly around him.
It was just a dream. No point dwelling on it.
In his ears he could still hear Neiro's soft voice, a gentle lullaby as he rubbed soothing circles on his back.
Small hands fumbled with their binding and tore off the shirt, jolting at the faint pulsing glow that he uncovered.
A fallen scale from the hydra's impenetrable armor blazed on his chest. In their heads and ears echoed a mighty roar as the beast laughed.
"For your arrow, Vagabond."
When Silas opened his eyes, Neiro was startled by the calm albeit irked gaze, sneering, he had commented offhandedly, "How irritating."
Silently Neiro reached back under his cloak and retrieved another 3 vials to join the Dragon's Bane he was still holding. The soft scent of what seemed to be minty chamomile and cinnamon wafted up to him as he uncorked 2 of them. The next one was not as pleasant, and he drew back as the albino uncorked the vial of pure tarragon oil. Neiro himself scrunched his face as he did so. The pungent scent was overpowering.
The third vial turned out to be empty, and his small companion decanted a portion of the other vials to mix, careful of the tea tree leaves and cinnamon bark.
Pocketing the vials he turned back to Silas, "Sorry, I would've used lavender but the apothecary didn't have any. I did manage to get a hold of some tea tree though, it's already mixed with the chamomile. "
Silas nodded and eased back as Neiro gingerly swabbed a generously steeped cloth over the crux, careful of the chaeta as it snagged the cloth. The scent was thick, almost like musk, but the potent concoction served to sooth the irritated skin.
"You look tired."
There was a noncommittal hum and Neiro laughed. The man wasn't completely right of mind yet. The fever had been overwhelming and it would b a while still before he was fit for travel.
But time was a luxury few could afford, and unfortunately they weren't among those blessed few.
Odd eyes glanced at the pulsing scale. It had been difficult enough hiding his condition as they were screened at the port. Soon enough he wouldn't be able to cover the veins creeping up his neck, and heaven forbid the locals catch wind or sight of it.
Left alone the draconic sorcery would corrupt and overtake his body. It was a wonder that Silas hadn't succumbed during the fever.
Briefly he wondered if it was truly just the dragon's bane, or whether the man's innate magic was protecting him.
Either way, they had to move deeper into the barrens of the cove where wyrmwort was rumored to grow. If the locals were to be believed, deep in the forest far from settlement was a grove, the sight of wormwood would indicate their quarry.
A groan pulled him from his thoughts and he glanced up. The invalid had dozed off.
Rest well Sy.
He smiled, "We're moving out as soon as you're up again. Sorry Sy, but you know how it goes, no rest for the weary I'm afraid."
Silas stared at the tea green walls, grunting as he propped himself on his arms. The room was silent and Neiro was fast asleep, small form curled around a pillow as he was wont to do.
It had felt disturbingly real as dreams oft did in the aftermath, but it felt different somehow, though he could not place what. The memories of a life he felt he had lived.
A mirror reflected his pale visage and blonde hair, illuminated by moonlight. That's right, he had dyed it blonde this time. Another once over of the room and he sighed, turning onto his side and pulling the covers firmly around him.
It was just a dream. No point dwelling on it.
In his ears he could still hear Neiro's soft voice, a gentle lullaby as he rubbed soothing circles on his back.
Wednesday, April 6, 2016
Scribbles: A Group of Popotoes
Just a few sketches and one start-to-finish painting exploration of some popotoes, though they are sometimes known as Lalafells.
This particular variety of popotoes are known as the Dunesfolk and are very hardy, their eyes have evolved a glassy surface to shield them from the harsh sun.
On a whim to practice motion and coloring, I drew a more detailed picture of Silas running in his Glacial Coat.
Forgot to take a picture prior to sketching in his clothes so no base sketch.
Whew, not as much smudging as I had anticipated. The new Pentel Oh!Gel pen and Signo Uni-Ball Micro are wonderful.
This particular variety of popotoes are known as the Dunesfolk and are very hardy, their eyes have evolved a glassy surface to shield them from the harsh sun.
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| Estavia Canterbury "Little Red Lady" |
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| Silas Curse "Of the Falling Snow" |
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| Morta Fides "The Resolute" |
On a whim to practice motion and coloring, I drew a more detailed picture of Silas running in his Glacial Coat.
Forgot to take a picture prior to sketching in his clothes so no base sketch.
 |
| Side by side picture of the sketch and line-art. |
Whew, not as much smudging as I had anticipated. The new Pentel Oh!Gel pen and Signo Uni-Ball Micro are wonderful.
Sunday, April 3, 2016
Character Profile and Analysis: Shyloris Blasé
Name: Shyloris "Shylo" Blasé (Shiloh in the more common spelling)
- Profile:
- hair: chocolate brown with lighter hints
- eyes: brown
- height: 4'10.5"
Personality: Somewhat withdrawn and reserved, has a habit of keeping her face lowered as per her oriental origins and traditional upbringing. Has a penchant for science though her natural aptitude for it is lacking, she makes up for it with diligence. Brave, though not in the typical sense of the word. Not the courage to venture into the unknown depths of a cave, or hold her own in combat, but the courage to reach out. Despite being enamored with the romance of adventure, she is reluctant to venture out and pursue it herself.
Dress Style: Conservative, very modest due to the aeon she grew up in, short shorts are definitely out of the comfort zone as are most bathing suits and jacket-less tank tops.
Quirks: Due to her long existence, she has taken to many trades to fill her time, taking on various crafts as she goes. As such, her wealth of knowledge can be considered a treasure in and of itself, as many of such arts have been lost to Time and long since ceased to exist. Also has an impeccable memory, a blessing and a curse from the Lily and knows a great deal of history not just from the texts, but as a witness. Considers herself a bystander in Life, and Curator of history, keeping a meticulous record of events throughout her many lifetimes.
Background: Shyloris is one of the hapless souls who stumbled into a pocket dimension and was trapped in the realm between, victim of the wards that arose when the world was split between that of humanity and that which became the Veil. Separated from her family and lost, she wandered the hellish world between worlds until traversing the road of paradox that led her to the Amaranthinæ Lily. The "Paradox Bloom". Half starved and suffering severe dehydration she partook of the trickling rivulet of its nectar as it flowed from the flower. From there she lived life after life bringing with her a precious moment at each time and end. On one such instance the brunette encounters Neiro. From there the other took the eternal child under wing, a fitting pair for their nigh eternal existence.
Saturday, April 2, 2016
Snippets and Stories: (WtI) Dog Day Shorts - By the Pond
A rain of pellets scattered the mirror like calm of the pond's surface. A few stray pellets bounced on the lily pads, rolling a ways to rest on the large broad leaves.
Already tiny mouths gaped at him, greedily sucking up the feed.
Silas sat back and admired their glimmering scales as they reflected the afternoon sun. To his pleasure he caught more glances still as more swam over, visible in the gaps between duckweed and aquatic plants.
The kois and catfish had grown large in the years that he had gone, but he was glad to see that they were still here, and that their keepers had taken as scrupulous a care of the pond as they had prior to his impromptu leave.
The kois and catfish had grown large in the years that he had gone, but he was glad to see that they were still here, and that their keepers had taken as scrupulous a care of the pond as they had prior to his impromptu leave.
To his disappointment the lotus flowers had lost their petals, leaving but the pod on their long stalks. It was to be expected, given that their blooming was but a mere 5 days in comparison with the much longer two weeks of a lily flower's life.
"Siras? Where are you?"
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