12-05-2016, 08:21 PM
BUT HOW COULD YOU KNOW THE SWEETEST SUFFERING
OF MOVING ON
OF MOVING ON
It has become increasingly quiet throughout the island. Their numbers are seemingly dwindling as they fall stagnant and purposeless. Often Tiphon has wandered aimlessly as a means to occupy his time as well as acclimate himself to this new world. One reason would be the mistrust he has in the wings perched at his sides. Although they’ve proven themselves strong enough for ventures to the mainland he still doesn’t push himself. They are small in comparison to what he once had, but that time has long since ended. Has it already been over a year since Beqanna regurgitated itself? Have they been nestled comfortably on this island for so long? Isolated from the rest of the world?
The solitary confinement is both a blessing and a curse, but he finds their home in the same predicament as the Dale: low numbers and silence.
It’s this reason that he almost doubts his tracking ability and shrugs away the prospect that someone new has reached their shores. So few bother with the long trip through the ocean’s tide and across fickle sandbars. When he breathes, however, there is no dismissing the scent of unfamiliarity and curiosity. It lures him from his seclusion deep in the island’s embrace into the bright sunlight. The palm trees thin until it’s open beach with the rolling waves. A sigh slips from his lips as he musters the strength to travel the last few yards until he is in front of the graying male. ”Hello there,” his voice is deep but not quite as booming as it used to be; he is a shadow of his former self. ”The name is Tiphon. Is there anything I can help you with?” A home, political conversation, company.
The solitary confinement is both a blessing and a curse, but he finds their home in the same predicament as the Dale: low numbers and silence.
It’s this reason that he almost doubts his tracking ability and shrugs away the prospect that someone new has reached their shores. So few bother with the long trip through the ocean’s tide and across fickle sandbars. When he breathes, however, there is no dismissing the scent of unfamiliarity and curiosity. It lures him from his seclusion deep in the island’s embrace into the bright sunlight. The palm trees thin until it’s open beach with the rolling waves. A sigh slips from his lips as he musters the strength to travel the last few yards until he is in front of the graying male. ”Hello there,” his voice is deep but not quite as booming as it used to be; he is a shadow of his former self. ”The name is Tiphon. Is there anything I can help you with?” A home, political conversation, company.
TIPHON
STARLACE AND INFECTION
this is awful. I'm so sorry lol