01-15-2017, 11:42 AM
Tephra is unlike most places Weir has ever been to, or even visited, let alone taken up residence in. Sure he had seen volcanoes, read about them in volumes of books with their spines worn from use, the pages thin and flaking. It’s not even the tropics of it all that take him off guard, thrust him into unknown, it is simply living in it-day to day. The heat is unusual after so long spent basking in the glory of ice and snow, swirling across the Dale in the form of a blizzard. The heat is unusual and the cold is, well, it is not so bearable now as it once was.
In the past he was snow, the chill in the air causing him no harm, he didn’t even bat an eye in sub zero temperatures such as parts of the Tundra could lead to. Now the very air of winter sent a chill into his old bones and he often had to retreat to the liquid rivers of lava that graphed their way across the land. Life was so very different now, different but not bad.
He still had his family, Eira, their children, he had so much to be thankful for. They had food and shelter and nothing currently ailed them so in reality he should be so very happy, so very happy and full. But he can’t deny he felt empty, and he did his best to mention only vaguely or in short when Eira asked after his solemn face. He missed the snow, creating magnificent things of ice, sharing his adventures and knowledge with replicas of things otherwise unknown to the others. He missed his pull on Magic, he felt vulnerable without it, it was his most prized possession, handy in a pinch and it oft kept the Magicians at bay. They did not like to pry their fingers where they might get bit.
Most of all he missed Darwin and he knew that time was long passed, Darwin faded along with the Dale and perhaps that is what hurt him most. It was as if the magnificent tortoise had never existed at all.
Weir finds Eira among the falling snow, gentle dollops of flakes fluttering down to the earth and it is magical to behold. Not long after is the leader of their small clan, Magnus and Weir offers the man a warm smile from his grayed lips. He isn’t the young man he used to be, but its hard to tell with Weir- he is so very childlike. “Halloo and good day, good day I say Magnus,” he beams, amber eyes bright. “You’ve just missed it, fulica americana, lovely little creature but you know, off it went as they do.” He dismissed the creature with a flick of his tail and blinked brightly at the others.
In the past he was snow, the chill in the air causing him no harm, he didn’t even bat an eye in sub zero temperatures such as parts of the Tundra could lead to. Now the very air of winter sent a chill into his old bones and he often had to retreat to the liquid rivers of lava that graphed their way across the land. Life was so very different now, different but not bad.
He still had his family, Eira, their children, he had so much to be thankful for. They had food and shelter and nothing currently ailed them so in reality he should be so very happy, so very happy and full. But he can’t deny he felt empty, and he did his best to mention only vaguely or in short when Eira asked after his solemn face. He missed the snow, creating magnificent things of ice, sharing his adventures and knowledge with replicas of things otherwise unknown to the others. He missed his pull on Magic, he felt vulnerable without it, it was his most prized possession, handy in a pinch and it oft kept the Magicians at bay. They did not like to pry their fingers where they might get bit.
Most of all he missed Darwin and he knew that time was long passed, Darwin faded along with the Dale and perhaps that is what hurt him most. It was as if the magnificent tortoise had never existed at all.
Weir finds Eira among the falling snow, gentle dollops of flakes fluttering down to the earth and it is magical to behold. Not long after is the leader of their small clan, Magnus and Weir offers the man a warm smile from his grayed lips. He isn’t the young man he used to be, but its hard to tell with Weir- he is so very childlike. “Halloo and good day, good day I say Magnus,” he beams, amber eyes bright. “You’ve just missed it, fulica americana, lovely little creature but you know, off it went as they do.” He dismissed the creature with a flick of his tail and blinked brightly at the others.
WEIR
higitus figitus migitus mum
prestidigitonium