09-14-2016, 12:37 PM
BUT HOW COULD YOU KNOW THE SWEETEST SUFFERING
OF MOVING ON
OF MOVING ON
The trips to the field are infrequent now. There are many that are scrambling for a team, a family, and the number of stragglers is quickly diminishing. Additionally, there is a long flight from the island to here and Tiphon still cannot help to mistrust his fairy-granted wings. They are small in comparison to what he had been born with. During these winter months they have proven more useful for huddling warmth rather than flight. Refusing to complain aloud Tiphon mumbles to himself with his eyes dulled by the uncertainty this After has wrought on them. No magic, nothing. His body – his soul – feels as barren and naked as the trees to the left of him as they groan with another breeze.
Despite everything, however, Tiphon realizes and understands how crucial it is to continue living and to survive. Although his strength has been sapped from his body he is still here in hopes of bringing new life to Ischia and to save the stragglers from their forsaken solitude. He has never cared for the winter and so he is eager to extend offers to escape it.
”Hello,” his voice is husky as he approaches the young girl, drawn by how confused and curious she is. There is no family surrounding her, but their scents still clutch onto her skin. She is alone he affirms with a careful sweep of their surroundings before searching her eyes. ”My name is Tiphon,” another frigid gust sinks its claws into him and he shudders. A white plume coils from his nostrils as he exhales. ”I’m not one for winter. Are you?” To soothe his mind he reflects on the sandy shores of home and the gently swaying palm trees that provide shade when the sun is beating on their backs. It’s a paradise there and so much more alluring with freezing temperatures and snow embracing the mainland.
Despite everything, however, Tiphon realizes and understands how crucial it is to continue living and to survive. Although his strength has been sapped from his body he is still here in hopes of bringing new life to Ischia and to save the stragglers from their forsaken solitude. He has never cared for the winter and so he is eager to extend offers to escape it.
”Hello,” his voice is husky as he approaches the young girl, drawn by how confused and curious she is. There is no family surrounding her, but their scents still clutch onto her skin. She is alone he affirms with a careful sweep of their surroundings before searching her eyes. ”My name is Tiphon,” another frigid gust sinks its claws into him and he shudders. A white plume coils from his nostrils as he exhales. ”I’m not one for winter. Are you?” To soothe his mind he reflects on the sandy shores of home and the gently swaying palm trees that provide shade when the sun is beating on their backs. It’s a paradise there and so much more alluring with freezing temperatures and snow embracing the mainland.
TIPHON
STARLACE AND INFECTION