the wolf at my door; gryffen

[Naoi]

Time, I have come to learn, diminishes all things. Great dynasties, great heroes, reputations and decorations. All of these things fade, first into the hearts of the beloved and later onto the lips of strangers, but eventually they fade even there as the mouths move on to more delectable gossip. Even you are not immune, as your importance begins to diminish; true, each day you hang above me, watching, but it matters not when each of those same days you fade into darkness once more. It’s not that I don’t know you’re there, watching and waiting, but moreso that I am beginning to swallow the bittersweet truth that you don’t care, not about me. And frankly, I don’t care. Tones of twilight overhead mark the end of your consciousness for the day, and no more do I sigh in relief and feel waves of tension lift from my shoulders. I feel blank, bland, boring and blue. I am weary of your chokehold, no matter how much I do miss that look… you, mindless, animalistic, pure and unadulterated rage. The dull handprints you left behind when you’d touch me and the kisses you’d leave imbedded in my skin. No, I don’t care, but oh, how I miss you sometimes. These nights grow longer and lonelier for a girl so disposed on a figure from the past, one whose vices diminish and virtues enhance as time moves forever on. You’re more handsome now, all rippling muscle and golden locks, accented with just enough dirt and sweat to maintain the flawless air of masculinity. You were not an abuser or a monster, no! Just a misunderstood man whose responsibility outweighed his patience. We are all guilty. We are all sinners. Let me not be the one to judge you, when the bloodstains won’t wash from my tired hands and the nightmares keep me awake in the night and clung to shadows in the daytime. But I digress. It’s a good night to peruse these lonely grasses, for a bright full moon rises in a cloudless sky. It renders this space almost navigable to me, nevermind the occasional pause and stumble. Crisp autumn air brushes around me in small waves, bringing a world of aromas and stories about the day’s visitors. I perch atop a small hill and pause to snatch a few mouthfuls of the sweet grass, eyeing the world around me in total vain but listening, waiting, hoping. (& I know you’re a million miles away, but is it so much to ask?) naoi

[Gryffen]

Most legends diminish, fade, die out. But some legends return long after they had been forgotten, forging new chapters out of the story they had begun. Perhaps they are stories of wonder and adventure. Maybe it’s a love story that picks up right where it was left off. Or maybe… Maybe it’s a tale of destruction and glory. Those were his favorites, the kind of legacy he left behind. The Chamber seems dead and withdrawn from him, not at all the playground he had remembered it to be. More time was spent here in the Meadow then in his birth place since he had returned. Here he made his mark, however subtle and slightly, as he pondered his next move. Should he roll the dice and try something new or see if waiting would be the most beneficial. Patience had never been his strong suit, he wouldn’t wait for long. The ghostly stallion with the gleaming red eyes haunted the withering grasses, agitated with his less then glorious welcome home party. They should have laid out a red carpet for him and instead he had been greeted with silence. His temper was foul. Plumage the color of dirty snow snapped against his hindquarters, betraying his mood. Her spotted silhouette makes her stand out, the way she picks her head up now and then and gives an almost wistful look here and there. She picks at the grass (when was the last time he had eaten? Surely he must eat here or there but he can’t seem to remember when that had been.. It seemed he was living off nothing just as a real ghost would do) in between her searching, it gives her away. This distraction method. His hooves dig into the earth as he turns his bleached body in her direction. As he grows closer, his pace slows and he purrs to her as his red eyes narrow coldly. ”Waiting for someone?”   G R Y F F E N *********the big bad wolf