07-16-2017, 11:32 AM
<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Almendra+Display|Asar" rel="stylesheet"><style>#etherchild{width:564px;border:1px solid #fff1da;box-shadow:0px 0px 5px #fff1da;}#etherchildbox{position:relative;z-index:1;background:-webkit-linear-gradient(bottom, rgba(23,21,22,0), rgba(23,21,22,1)150px);background:-o-linear-gradient(top, rgba(23,21,22,0), rgba(23,21,22,1)150px);background:-moz-linear-gradient(bottom, rgba(23,21,22,0), rgba(23,21,22,1)150px);background:-linear-gradient(to top, rgba(23,21,22,0), rgba(23,21,22,1)150px);background:-ms-linear-gradient(bottom, rgba(23,21,22,0), rgba(23,21,22,1)150px);margin-bottom:-160px;padding-top:5px;padding-bottom:50px;}#etherchildpic{position:relative;z-index:0;}#etherchildtext{width:500px;font-family: 'Asar', serif;font-size:13px;color:#fff1da;line-height:14px;}#etherchildquote{color:#fdf5ed;font-family: 'Almendra Display', cursive;font-size:15px;font-weight:bold;line-height:14px;}#etherchildname{color:#fdf5ed;font-family: 'Almendra Display', cursive;font-size:60px;text-transform:uppercase;margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;}#etherchildquote2{color:#fff1da;font-family: 'Asar', serif;font-size:13px;margin-top:-20px;}</style><center><div id="etherchild"><div id="etherchildbox"><p id="etherchildquote">The sun crashed down to the ground, the moon rose up into the sky bright red,<br/>the dead climbed up from their graves and fell to their knees saying<br/>"Come one, come all, come see and believe."</p><p id="etherchildtext" align="justify">The forest had swallowed him so easily, refusing to spit him back out despite his youthful naivete. It will not give up its prize so easily. And Ether, young and foolhardy colt that he is, continues ever deeper. Further entrenching himself in the dark, oily world that had replaced his familiar home with heavy, grasping fingers. Darker, deeper, deadlier. Taking him in until even his sight begins to blacken [that unnaturally powerfully sight that is not truly his], until only a faint glow is left in the distance.
His strides slow, faltering as he stares at that single visible object, its light melding, blending, shifting. Moving. It is not a light, but a <i>thing</i>. A thing with a pulse, bright and hot [a thrumming heartbeat that throbs in the false night], alarmingly alive.
For a moment, he can only stand and stare, eyes wide and frightened. The wolf still rests beside him, invisible in the blackness of the forest, in the wake of such bright life. It is the only comfort he has in this strange and awful parody of his home. The only protection he has against whatever beast now stares back at him.
And then it is moving towards him, its massive body making only a soft hissing sound as it slithers across the forest floor. The shifting of the heartbeat startles him from his reverie, reminding him that he should be <i>running</i>. This beast is coming for him, and it cannot be for anything good. Taking several hasty steps backwards, he stumbles, nearly falls. When his gaze once more finds that beastly creature, it is disappearing, dissolving in a flurry of bright sparks, leaving him blinded in the ensuing darkness.
Breath, hot and sticky, a low rumbling growl. This is all the warning he is given when the creature appears behind him, saliva dangling thick and wet from its fanged mouth. Flinching violently, Ether springs forward on tense muscles, his breath propelled from his lungs with a harsh gasp. But the wolf is there, leaping, jaws wide in a silent, lethal snarl. The smallest part of Ether that has retained any ability to think [to act] despite the horror.
He is but a boy though, small and inconsequential. He could not hope to overcome such a beast on his own. He can see it clearly now, long and serpentine, each thick coil as large as his barrel. The pulsing heart is there, hidden behind steely, sinewy muscle. Behind long, dripping fangs. So he does the only thing a boy like him can do. He runs.
A second wolf joins the first, a third. It drains his energy, weakens his muscles. They could not hope to win against such a beast [not when they are only as strong as their master], but they would buy him time. Time is precious now, necessary. Time is what he needs to get away. To flee to a distant corner of this otherworld. To find what safety he might.
He can hear the snapping, the growling and spitting, massive jaws closing futilely on ephemeral shadow, growing more distant with each step. He cannot maintain it though, not with such distance between them. And so one wolf vanishes, then another, and finally the last is beside him once more, a shadowy tendril he still cannot see. He can only pray they have bought him enough time. That they had allowed him his escape.</p><p id="etherchildname">Ether</p><p id="etherchildquote2">Shadow son of Shahrizai and Ilka</p></div><div id="etherchildpic"><img src="https://s3.postimg.org/t9uy4hbs3/Ether.jpg"/></div></div></center>
His strides slow, faltering as he stares at that single visible object, its light melding, blending, shifting. Moving. It is not a light, but a <i>thing</i>. A thing with a pulse, bright and hot [a thrumming heartbeat that throbs in the false night], alarmingly alive.
For a moment, he can only stand and stare, eyes wide and frightened. The wolf still rests beside him, invisible in the blackness of the forest, in the wake of such bright life. It is the only comfort he has in this strange and awful parody of his home. The only protection he has against whatever beast now stares back at him.
And then it is moving towards him, its massive body making only a soft hissing sound as it slithers across the forest floor. The shifting of the heartbeat startles him from his reverie, reminding him that he should be <i>running</i>. This beast is coming for him, and it cannot be for anything good. Taking several hasty steps backwards, he stumbles, nearly falls. When his gaze once more finds that beastly creature, it is disappearing, dissolving in a flurry of bright sparks, leaving him blinded in the ensuing darkness.
Breath, hot and sticky, a low rumbling growl. This is all the warning he is given when the creature appears behind him, saliva dangling thick and wet from its fanged mouth. Flinching violently, Ether springs forward on tense muscles, his breath propelled from his lungs with a harsh gasp. But the wolf is there, leaping, jaws wide in a silent, lethal snarl. The smallest part of Ether that has retained any ability to think [to act] despite the horror.
He is but a boy though, small and inconsequential. He could not hope to overcome such a beast on his own. He can see it clearly now, long and serpentine, each thick coil as large as his barrel. The pulsing heart is there, hidden behind steely, sinewy muscle. Behind long, dripping fangs. So he does the only thing a boy like him can do. He runs.
A second wolf joins the first, a third. It drains his energy, weakens his muscles. They could not hope to win against such a beast [not when they are only as strong as their master], but they would buy him time. Time is precious now, necessary. Time is what he needs to get away. To flee to a distant corner of this otherworld. To find what safety he might.
He can hear the snapping, the growling and spitting, massive jaws closing futilely on ephemeral shadow, growing more distant with each step. He cannot maintain it though, not with such distance between them. And so one wolf vanishes, then another, and finally the last is beside him once more, a shadowy tendril he still cannot see. He can only pray they have bought him enough time. That they had allowed him his escape.</p><p id="etherchildname">Ether</p><p id="etherchildquote2">Shadow son of Shahrizai and Ilka</p></div><div id="etherchildpic"><img src="https://s3.postimg.org/t9uy4hbs3/Ether.jpg"/></div></div></center>