05-20-2021, 11:45 AM
wu
go ahead and say death is a thief
There is the comfort of the woods, it’s echoed stories turned ash and stone in the mouths of the creatures who cannot talk. And then there is this - a vast open field that is dotted with horses, groups of two or three, those alone and grazing, and even larger groups yet. It is much more than Wu was anticipating, or ready for. Perhaps he thought that he would be allowed a grey transition into the world - a transition that happened quietly, seeking out the company of others in his own comfort. Sometimes it seems things are quite black and white - his tomb of solitary trees quickly exchanged for a myriad of horses before him.
It is mere moments before Wu sees one of these horses coming towards him - and a moment of brief panic ensues. He was not quite ready to be so involved, to be a part of this world he knew was occurring beyond the yawn of the trees. He supposed though, he truly did not have a choice. It was this - or it was a deep bow to kiss the mouth of insanity.
Unless it was insanity who was coming towards him now - a being that quite clearly set its marker on the ‘evil’ side of that poorly drawn line. Bone caressed his painted body where bone clearly should not have been. His eyes were iced over like the forests’ lake throughout winter - the water so sharp it was painful to taste. He was tall - though not as quite as tall as the trees Wu knew - but tall enough to stand up to death. Should the world have been black and white, this gentleman looked like he belonged on the darker side. Wu’s naivety, for all that it judged through, must have held some inkling of truth (though Wu did nary know of Reave’s history of murder).
There is little time for Wu to change course, change his mind, change anything - for the stallion was upon him in all his hallowed being. He’s speaking to Wu, as if it was a common enough thing (perhaps it is so simple, to just approach another and speak?). He’s asking questions (or is he making statements?).
It takes a moment for Wu to find his words - something that had been saved for the flora and fauna- “I was there. There for a while. And now I am here.” That much, Wu knew. The woods is (was?) his home - he knew that was the only place he had been. ““I.. I don’t know.. I’m not sure. I’m not really sure about where I’m going?” His voice cracks slightly from disuse, and his statement inflects upwards, as if he really isn’t sure at all. “Are you going?” And Wu realizes this isn’t perhaps the right way to ask a question. This much he knows. “I meant. Why are you here?” Maybe that wasn’t really what he meant either, though.
It is mere moments before Wu sees one of these horses coming towards him - and a moment of brief panic ensues. He was not quite ready to be so involved, to be a part of this world he knew was occurring beyond the yawn of the trees. He supposed though, he truly did not have a choice. It was this - or it was a deep bow to kiss the mouth of insanity.
Unless it was insanity who was coming towards him now - a being that quite clearly set its marker on the ‘evil’ side of that poorly drawn line. Bone caressed his painted body where bone clearly should not have been. His eyes were iced over like the forests’ lake throughout winter - the water so sharp it was painful to taste. He was tall - though not as quite as tall as the trees Wu knew - but tall enough to stand up to death. Should the world have been black and white, this gentleman looked like he belonged on the darker side. Wu’s naivety, for all that it judged through, must have held some inkling of truth (though Wu did nary know of Reave’s history of murder).
There is little time for Wu to change course, change his mind, change anything - for the stallion was upon him in all his hallowed being. He’s speaking to Wu, as if it was a common enough thing (perhaps it is so simple, to just approach another and speak?). He’s asking questions (or is he making statements?).
It takes a moment for Wu to find his words - something that had been saved for the flora and fauna- “I was there. There for a while. And now I am here.” That much, Wu knew. The woods is (was?) his home - he knew that was the only place he had been. ““I.. I don’t know.. I’m not sure. I’m not really sure about where I’m going?” His voice cracks slightly from disuse, and his statement inflects upwards, as if he really isn’t sure at all. “Are you going?” And Wu realizes this isn’t perhaps the right way to ask a question. This much he knows. “I meant. Why are you here?” Maybe that wasn’t really what he meant either, though.
@[Reave]