PHAEDRUS
Somewhere at some time I made a decision, one that brought me to this place at this time. Where, when, or what decision that was, I am not sure. No, I am sure, it was the decision to leave my herd behind, it was the decision to allow my soul to separate and be its own creature. I had to watch it, that night her screams, her terror, her pain became mine once more. Sheba no longer existed, per the gods of Beqanna. Taking the magic from the kingdoms, destroying the deserts, separating meadows from forests, burning the Jungle, demolishing the Gates life tree. The world was… is changing, and there is nothing I can do to stop it. The one question is, what do I do to…. What is the purpose to my life? What is the purpose to fighting change? Maybe this is a good thing, maybe this will bring about knowledge that I need.
As long as I’ve lived, as long as my parent’s life span, and theirs before that, for as far back as I can comprehend the land itself has never changed, never have I heard of something like this happening. Not since the beginning. The gods have never spoken, yet, here we are, in this world of chaos, and that is exactly what is happening. What more do they have planned for us, it is not as if I can ask the gods directly.
I mull over my thoughts, a skewed expression on my brow. I pay no attention to the things that surround me. If I did then I would find that not only am I lost, but I am also amongst the trees where finding my bearings is difficult. The thick branches and endless trunks prevent me from seeing anything more than a horse length in front or behind me. I continue to walk sulking and ejecting my complaints to the wind. Not yelling mind, more of a under-the-breath grumble.
As long as I’ve lived, as long as my parent’s life span, and theirs before that, for as far back as I can comprehend the land itself has never changed, never have I heard of something like this happening. Not since the beginning. The gods have never spoken, yet, here we are, in this world of chaos, and that is exactly what is happening. What more do they have planned for us, it is not as if I can ask the gods directly.
I mull over my thoughts, a skewed expression on my brow. I pay no attention to the things that surround me. If I did then I would find that not only am I lost, but I am also amongst the trees where finding my bearings is difficult. The thick branches and endless trunks prevent me from seeing anything more than a horse length in front or behind me. I continue to walk sulking and ejecting my complaints to the wind. Not yelling mind, more of a under-the-breath grumble.
i'll carry this flag, to the grave if i must
@[Marijuana]