02-14-2021, 01:33 PM
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XImageTransform.Microsoft.gradient( startColorstr='#cbdac3', endColorstr='#00cbdac3',GradientType=0 );}.memorie_message {position: relative;z-index: 10;background-color: rgba(255, 240, 221, 0.3);box-shadow: inset 0 0 10px rgba(255, 240, 221, 1);text-align: justify;width: 530px;padding: 15px 20px;color: #f88498;}.memorie_name {position: relative;text-align: center;z-index: 10;font: 36px 'Playfair Display', serif;letter-spacing: 8px;text-transform: uppercase;color: rgba(248, 132, 152, 1);text-shadow: 0 0 2px #000;}.memorie_quote {z-index: 15;font-size: 11px;letter-spacing: 2px;text-transform: uppercase;color: rgba(248, 132, 152, 1);padding-bottom: 10px;}</style><center><div class="memorie_container"><p class="memorie_quote">one lives in hope of becoming a memory</p><div class="memorie_message">
It’s hard to say whether it was morning or night when the call came. It’s hard to even know what time of year it is. I had long since given up on any semblance of normal times. It was cold and bleak, and it had to be close to a year by now. I slept when I felt like it (which wasn’t often), and I had taken to wandering quite a lot, much to the chagrin of mother and father. Mother wanted me safe, and so did father, but he was also worried about making sure the residents of Taiga were fed. That’s where mother and I came in, as we both have the gift of flora revival. So even in this eternal darkness, we were still able to rejuvenate the grasses to sustain life within our dreary home.
<br>I was just drifting off into a fretful sleep, somewhere on the border of Taiga, ready to set out on another…adventure? Quest? Well, I was ready to wander off somewhere. Maybe explore would be a good way of putting it? But as I closed my eyes, I could hear them. The call was faint, as if coming from the lips of a very tired being, and it held little in the way of hope, but it still came, and I lifted my head to the winds, my delicate ears tipping in it’s direction. It was a sound of sadness and despair, and I couldn’t help but feel a need to answer it. The call wreaked of desperation, just the sort of thing that I felt compelled to follow. I had always been one to help, rather than being helped myself.
<br>So, without hesitation, I pull myself back to my hooves and set off at a brisk trot. I don’t know exactly where I am going, so I rely on the residue of emotions left by the call. There might not have been a lot of magic behind it, but it left just enough that I could follow it.
<br>As I move through the lands, my mind wanders back through the journey I have taken in this dark world. When the sun first disappeared, father had been up the Mountain with Amarine, and this had taken its toll on mother and me, as we spent countless hours wandering the giant redwoods, calling out for them and losing hope along the way. When they had finally returned, they had come without a trace of my half-siblings. I could still feel Amarine’s despair that had resonated through every cell of my body at the time. Cheri and Reynard had found their way home, though, and while the sun still could not find its footing behind the moon, things had returned to as normal as they could be. At least normal enough for me to wander off in search of a solution to our problems.
<br>I had discovered a lot about myself on that journey, and I had made a new friend–though I have every reason to believe I will never see him again. Oh, Grodylin. I had thought him to be a monster at first–perhaps one of the monsters that had ravaged Beqanna, but he turned out to be a friendly creature, just large and unique. He had brought out the gift of glowing markings that had lain dormant within my genes, which had helped so many times to find my way in this world of darkness.
<br>I had encountered one of the monsters once, though. The memory of Cheri’s shriek echoes through my mind at the thought, and I grow slightly unnerved for just a moment. I had turned into a monster myself, in hopes of protecting my family. The thing had been difficult to see in the darkness, but what I could remember of it sends shivers down my spine. I stop for just a moment and shake my head softly so that my growing mane falls into my eyes. It was just beginning to show signs of glowing, like father’s mane, something that sent a thrill through me. <span style="color:#28599b;">“Okay,”</span> I breathe softly with a sigh, <span style="color:#28599b;">“the monsters are not here, not now.”</span> Somehow, the words don’t bring any comfort, so I push forward, cantering this time, as if it would put distance between the anxiety that had seeped into my mind.
<br>When the residue of emotions attached to the call fade, I slow to a stop. In the darkness, it is hard to tell, but it looks like I have come to the base of a mountain. No, <i>the</i> mountain. I could feel the remnants of emotions from horses that have traveled this way with hope, though there are more than the fair share of despair as well. I look around me, but for now, there is no movement, so I simply wait, unsure of what would happen now.
</div><p class="memorie_name">memorie</p><div class="memorie_gradient"></div><img src="https://i.postimg.cc/3NX0PGqD/28-C0-B40-C-A789-4-CB4-A977-498-D2523-BBB5.jpg"></div><a href="https://unsplash.com/photos/NkQD-RHhbvY" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" style="padding-top:10px;">Photo by Saffu from Unsplash</a></center>
XImageTransform.Microsoft.gradient( startColorstr='#cbdac3', endColorstr='#00cbdac3',GradientType=0 );}.memorie_message {position: relative;z-index: 10;background-color: rgba(255, 240, 221, 0.3);box-shadow: inset 0 0 10px rgba(255, 240, 221, 1);text-align: justify;width: 530px;padding: 15px 20px;color: #f88498;}.memorie_name {position: relative;text-align: center;z-index: 10;font: 36px 'Playfair Display', serif;letter-spacing: 8px;text-transform: uppercase;color: rgba(248, 132, 152, 1);text-shadow: 0 0 2px #000;}.memorie_quote {z-index: 15;font-size: 11px;letter-spacing: 2px;text-transform: uppercase;color: rgba(248, 132, 152, 1);padding-bottom: 10px;}</style><center><div class="memorie_container"><p class="memorie_quote">one lives in hope of becoming a memory</p><div class="memorie_message">It’s hard to say whether it was morning or night when the call came. It’s hard to even know what time of year it is. I had long since given up on any semblance of normal times. It was cold and bleak, and it had to be close to a year by now. I slept when I felt like it (which wasn’t often), and I had taken to wandering quite a lot, much to the chagrin of mother and father. Mother wanted me safe, and so did father, but he was also worried about making sure the residents of Taiga were fed. That’s where mother and I came in, as we both have the gift of flora revival. So even in this eternal darkness, we were still able to rejuvenate the grasses to sustain life within our dreary home.
<br>I was just drifting off into a fretful sleep, somewhere on the border of Taiga, ready to set out on another…adventure? Quest? Well, I was ready to wander off somewhere. Maybe explore would be a good way of putting it? But as I closed my eyes, I could hear them. The call was faint, as if coming from the lips of a very tired being, and it held little in the way of hope, but it still came, and I lifted my head to the winds, my delicate ears tipping in it’s direction. It was a sound of sadness and despair, and I couldn’t help but feel a need to answer it. The call wreaked of desperation, just the sort of thing that I felt compelled to follow. I had always been one to help, rather than being helped myself.
<br>So, without hesitation, I pull myself back to my hooves and set off at a brisk trot. I don’t know exactly where I am going, so I rely on the residue of emotions left by the call. There might not have been a lot of magic behind it, but it left just enough that I could follow it.
<br>As I move through the lands, my mind wanders back through the journey I have taken in this dark world. When the sun first disappeared, father had been up the Mountain with Amarine, and this had taken its toll on mother and me, as we spent countless hours wandering the giant redwoods, calling out for them and losing hope along the way. When they had finally returned, they had come without a trace of my half-siblings. I could still feel Amarine’s despair that had resonated through every cell of my body at the time. Cheri and Reynard had found their way home, though, and while the sun still could not find its footing behind the moon, things had returned to as normal as they could be. At least normal enough for me to wander off in search of a solution to our problems.
<br>I had discovered a lot about myself on that journey, and I had made a new friend–though I have every reason to believe I will never see him again. Oh, Grodylin. I had thought him to be a monster at first–perhaps one of the monsters that had ravaged Beqanna, but he turned out to be a friendly creature, just large and unique. He had brought out the gift of glowing markings that had lain dormant within my genes, which had helped so many times to find my way in this world of darkness.
<br>I had encountered one of the monsters once, though. The memory of Cheri’s shriek echoes through my mind at the thought, and I grow slightly unnerved for just a moment. I had turned into a monster myself, in hopes of protecting my family. The thing had been difficult to see in the darkness, but what I could remember of it sends shivers down my spine. I stop for just a moment and shake my head softly so that my growing mane falls into my eyes. It was just beginning to show signs of glowing, like father’s mane, something that sent a thrill through me. <span style="color:#28599b;">“Okay,”</span> I breathe softly with a sigh, <span style="color:#28599b;">“the monsters are not here, not now.”</span> Somehow, the words don’t bring any comfort, so I push forward, cantering this time, as if it would put distance between the anxiety that had seeped into my mind.
<br>When the residue of emotions attached to the call fade, I slow to a stop. In the darkness, it is hard to tell, but it looks like I have come to the base of a mountain. No, <i>the</i> mountain. I could feel the remnants of emotions from horses that have traveled this way with hope, though there are more than the fair share of despair as well. I look around me, but for now, there is no movement, so I simply wait, unsure of what would happen now.
</div><p class="memorie_name">memorie</p><div class="memorie_gradient"></div><img src="https://i.postimg.cc/3NX0PGqD/28-C0-B40-C-A789-4-CB4-A977-498-D2523-BBB5.jpg"></div><a href="https://unsplash.com/photos/NkQD-RHhbvY" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" style="padding-top:10px;">Photo by Saffu from Unsplash</a></center>