11-28-2020, 06:38 PM
<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Bebas+Neue&display=swap" rel="stylesheet"><div align="center"><div style="border-right:#000 2px solid;border-left:#000 2px solid;background:transparent;padding:15px;width:550px;"><div style="width:550px;font-family:Bebas Neue;font-size:24px;text-align:center;line-height:90%;">stifled the choice and the air in my lungs;<br></div><div style="width:550px;padding-bottom:15px;font-family:times new roman; font-size:15px;text-align:center;line-height:100%;text-transform:uppercase;"><i>better not to breathe than to breathe a lie</i></div><div style="font-family:times;font-size:13px;line-height:110%;text-align:justify;">
The low rumble of thunder is what wakes him and he feels two sensations simultaneously: the weight of humidity wrapping itself around his body and the drizzle of a summer storm dampening his head until his mane clings to his neck. Vines have snared his navy legs as if he has grown from the soil of this place and when he shifts his weight to untangle himself, the wide leaf of an elephant ear plant brushes against his left side. Birds of paradise take shelter in the tropical trees surrounding the clearing he has found himself in, their songs sounding like the memory of his mother’s voice whispering a lullaby. Looming in the near distance, the dark face of a volcano observes the tropics below like the stern face of a watchful father.
In all the wandering he has done over the years, Tiercel has never been to Tephra before.
Similar to the rocky face of the volcano, Tiercel feels himself grow boulder at the thought of exploring an unfamiliar land when its normal inhabitants may be hiding from the thunderclap, electricity, and rain. Quietly, the dun-and-navy steps into the thickness of the jungle, careful to avoid the orange stream of lava that cuts a narrow path through the undergrowth.
As Tiercel walks, he notices how absent the fauna have been; aside from the songs of the birds, he has seen no signs of monkeys, sloths, or leopards — animals that have been rumored to call Tephra home. Cerulean eyes wander the tangle of undergrowth until they land on something unexpected — a tittynope of a prey animal, now unidentifiable from the mess of muscle, bone, and blood that a predator had created.
Rustling in the ferns draws Tiercel’s attention away from the remains and his eyes widen at the sight of a thick-bodied creature moving (no, <i>slithering</i>) toward him. Fear bubbles into the back of his throat when the distinctive face of an anaconda moves through the closest collection of rain-soaked ferns. Uniquely colored in pastel shades of blue and green, the snake’s head is the size of Tiercel’s and its scaled body is just as wide as Tiercel’s barrel.
Jaws have never unhinged quite as the anaconda’s does, and its mouth stretches so wide that the tip of its nose reaches past the treetops; although it is traditionally the type of animal to squeeze the life out of their prey, Tiercel is placed in the perfect position to be swallowed whole.
<b>“Well, this has been fun but I think I’m going to run now.”</b>
Gratefully, Tiercel manages to dodge to the right just as the massive jaws snap closed, the sound loud enough to startle a pair of macaws from their shelter nearby.
<i>Powerstriker.</i>
Naming the beast is easy enough for Tiercel, but relaying such a title to a living soul may prove difficult, depending on how nimbly the dunskin can climb through the thick, wet tropics. Every step brings Tiercel further from the snake’s lair and closer to the smells of salt, sand, and safety. Kicking his gait into a speed he didn’t realize was possible, Tiercel bursts through the treeline onto Tephra’s beach with one thought in his mind: He was shore he was dead meat.
<div style="width:550px;padding-top:15px;font-family:Bebas Neue;font-size:24px;text-align:right;">tiercel.</div></div></div>
The low rumble of thunder is what wakes him and he feels two sensations simultaneously: the weight of humidity wrapping itself around his body and the drizzle of a summer storm dampening his head until his mane clings to his neck. Vines have snared his navy legs as if he has grown from the soil of this place and when he shifts his weight to untangle himself, the wide leaf of an elephant ear plant brushes against his left side. Birds of paradise take shelter in the tropical trees surrounding the clearing he has found himself in, their songs sounding like the memory of his mother’s voice whispering a lullaby. Looming in the near distance, the dark face of a volcano observes the tropics below like the stern face of a watchful father.
In all the wandering he has done over the years, Tiercel has never been to Tephra before.
Similar to the rocky face of the volcano, Tiercel feels himself grow boulder at the thought of exploring an unfamiliar land when its normal inhabitants may be hiding from the thunderclap, electricity, and rain. Quietly, the dun-and-navy steps into the thickness of the jungle, careful to avoid the orange stream of lava that cuts a narrow path through the undergrowth.
As Tiercel walks, he notices how absent the fauna have been; aside from the songs of the birds, he has seen no signs of monkeys, sloths, or leopards — animals that have been rumored to call Tephra home. Cerulean eyes wander the tangle of undergrowth until they land on something unexpected — a tittynope of a prey animal, now unidentifiable from the mess of muscle, bone, and blood that a predator had created.
Rustling in the ferns draws Tiercel’s attention away from the remains and his eyes widen at the sight of a thick-bodied creature moving (no, <i>slithering</i>) toward him. Fear bubbles into the back of his throat when the distinctive face of an anaconda moves through the closest collection of rain-soaked ferns. Uniquely colored in pastel shades of blue and green, the snake’s head is the size of Tiercel’s and its scaled body is just as wide as Tiercel’s barrel.
Jaws have never unhinged quite as the anaconda’s does, and its mouth stretches so wide that the tip of its nose reaches past the treetops; although it is traditionally the type of animal to squeeze the life out of their prey, Tiercel is placed in the perfect position to be swallowed whole.
<b>“Well, this has been fun but I think I’m going to run now.”</b>
Gratefully, Tiercel manages to dodge to the right just as the massive jaws snap closed, the sound loud enough to startle a pair of macaws from their shelter nearby.
<i>Powerstriker.</i>
Naming the beast is easy enough for Tiercel, but relaying such a title to a living soul may prove difficult, depending on how nimbly the dunskin can climb through the thick, wet tropics. Every step brings Tiercel further from the snake’s lair and closer to the smells of salt, sand, and safety. Kicking his gait into a speed he didn’t realize was possible, Tiercel bursts through the treeline onto Tephra’s beach with one thought in his mind: He was shore he was dead meat.
<div style="width:550px;padding-top:15px;font-family:Bebas Neue;font-size:24px;text-align:right;">tiercel.</div></div></div>