09-29-2020, 08:30 PM
My senses tremble, the vibration of a fly caught in a spider's web. Some signal that I'm trying to trace, to tug back on the line. My eyes track from tree to tree, shadow to shadow, the sun only deepening the voids.
And then, as they usually do, a Voice murmurs in my head. Only when I've caught the impression of sound do my eyes alight on the owner. A Shade like the others, insubstantial where light hits him, more solid when it doesn't. I smile viciously.
"You're new. What did I do to you, I wonder." My mind is quick to suggest possibilities. Was his family turned out when I last left these woods? Was his home burned, or drowned once upon a time, when I could have saved it? Maybe my children ate his heart while I stood by and watched. Maybe I did it myself. I've been punished for less.
Still I smile at him sharply, a mouth of chipped teeth and lips stained dark with old blood. There are mountains and oceans of chaos in my mind. That I'm not running or screaming is simply the luck of the day, that I'm spoiling for a fight and not cowering away. What are dragons to the demons in one's own mind? What are ghosts but past failings to be defeated.
I shudder, an icy claw down my spine.
My eyes dart from side to side, refusing to settle on him, on the trees, on anything. It's the anticipation tray gets you, you see. The waiting.
I do hate to be kept waiting.
@[Rajanish]
And then, as they usually do, a Voice murmurs in my head. Only when I've caught the impression of sound do my eyes alight on the owner. A Shade like the others, insubstantial where light hits him, more solid when it doesn't. I smile viciously.
"You're new. What did I do to you, I wonder." My mind is quick to suggest possibilities. Was his family turned out when I last left these woods? Was his home burned, or drowned once upon a time, when I could have saved it? Maybe my children ate his heart while I stood by and watched. Maybe I did it myself. I've been punished for less.
Still I smile at him sharply, a mouth of chipped teeth and lips stained dark with old blood. There are mountains and oceans of chaos in my mind. That I'm not running or screaming is simply the luck of the day, that I'm spoiling for a fight and not cowering away. What are dragons to the demons in one's own mind? What are ghosts but past failings to be defeated.
I shudder, an icy claw down my spine.
My eyes dart from side to side, refusing to settle on him, on the trees, on anything. It's the anticipation tray gets you, you see. The waiting.
I do hate to be kept waiting.
@[Rajanish]