Gale
06-17-2020, 07:14 AM
(This post was last modified: 06-17-2020, 07:00 PM by Wysteria Fairy.)
<center><table width=530 cellpadding=5><tr><td bgcolor=#FFFFFF><div align=justify> <center><table width=530 cellpadding=20><tr><td bgcolor=#FFFFFF><div align=justify> <center> <font style=font-size:37px;letter-spacing:0px;line-height:17px;font-family:garamond;color:#5B4425><b>Gale</b></font><br><font face=times size=2 color=#3D3131>run away with me</font><font color=white>--</font> <font style=font-size:11px;letter-spacing:2px;line-height:8px;font-family:arial;color: A59170><br><font color=#A59170>lost souls and reverie</font> </font> <br><font style=font-size:37px;letter-spacing:0px;line-height:13px;font-family:garamond;color:#15317E><font face=times size=2 color=#3D3131>running wild and running free</font> </center><br><br></center></font><font color=#3D3131 face=times new roman style="font-size:13px; line-height:12px;"> Before he follows Eyas to Loess, he comes o the Mountain for the fourth time.
The osprey soars above him, a gift he is immensely grateful for, scouting the land ahead and letting the brindled stallion know if the way is blocked. The path he takes is different than any of the times before, and some part of him wonders if perhaps the fae change it every time.
<font color=#A59170><b>“You were silent when I was here before,”</b></font> he tells them when he can climb no farther, <font color=#A59170><b>“But I’ve come again. I would like to make my home known as Islandres, but I would like your blessing to do so.”</b></font> Names are important, he knows, they tell a story. Above him, the osprey’s keening cry echoes in the crisp autumn air.
Gale waits.
<br><center><img width=750 src=https://i.imgur.com/85yvwYT.jpg></center></font></font></center></font></font></font></div></tr></td></table></center><center></center></font></div></tr></td></table></center>
The osprey soars above him, a gift he is immensely grateful for, scouting the land ahead and letting the brindled stallion know if the way is blocked. The path he takes is different than any of the times before, and some part of him wonders if perhaps the fae change it every time.
<font color=#A59170><b>“You were silent when I was here before,”</b></font> he tells them when he can climb no farther, <font color=#A59170><b>“But I’ve come again. I would like to make my home known as Islandres, but I would like your blessing to do so.”</b></font> Names are important, he knows, they tell a story. Above him, the osprey’s keening cry echoes in the crisp autumn air.
Gale waits.
<br><center><img width=750 src=https://i.imgur.com/85yvwYT.jpg></center></font></font></center></font></font></font></div></tr></td></table></center><center></center></font></div></tr></td></table></center>