<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Almendra+Display|Asar" rel="stylesheet"><style>#etherchild{width:564px;border:1px solid #fff1da;box-shadow:0px 0px 5px #fff1da;}#etherchildbox{position:relative;z-index:1;background:-webkit-linear-gradient(bottom, rgba(23,21,22,0), rgba(23,21,22,1)150px);background:-o-linear-gradient(top, rgba(23,21,22,0), rgba(23,21,22,1)150px);background:-moz-linear-gradient(bottom, rgba(23,21,22,0), rgba(23,21,22,1)150px);background:-linear-gradient(to top, rgba(23,21,22,0), rgba(23,21,22,1)150px);background:-ms-linear-gradient(bottom, rgba(23,21,22,0), rgba(23,21,22,1)150px);margin-bottom:-160px;padding-top:5px;padding-bottom:50px;}#etherchildpic{position:relative;z-index:0;}#etherchildtext{width:500px;font-family: 'Asar', serif;font-size:13px;color:#fff1da;line-height:14px;}#etherchildquote{color:#fdf5ed;font-family: 'Almendra Display', cursive;font-size:15px;font-weight:bold;line-height:14px;}#etherchildname{color:#fdf5ed;font-family: 'Almendra Display', cursive;font-size:60px;text-transform:uppercase;margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;}#etherchildquote2{color:#fff1da;font-family: 'Asar', serif;font-size:13px;margin-top:-20px;}</style><center><div id="etherchild"><div id="etherchildbox"><p id="etherchildquote">The sun crashed down to the ground, the moon rose up into the sky bright red,<br/>the dead climbed up from their graves and fell to their knees saying<br/>"Come one, come all, come see and believe."</p><p id="etherchildtext" align="justify">It is not often that he ventures beyond his comfortable, familiar world. He is a creature of the shadows, the spaces small and hidden. Those are the places he calls his. And the peaceful safety of his forested home is such that he is rarely tempted to leave. But he is a growing boy, and as such, even he cannot remain closeted forever.
When he leaves today, it is not with companionship in mind, however. No, it is to grow and expand his knowledge. To <i>learn</i>.
When he leaves the haven of home, he is cloaked in midnight, the dusky blue and freckled white of his lanky, youthful frame nearly indiscernible from the shifting shadows he has grown so comfortable with. He had been born to them after all. So it should come as no surprise that when he stumbles inadvertently into a foreign world, he does not immediately notice. He rarely sees the sunlight as it is, so its absence is not immediately notable.
It isn't until the silence - that ominous stillness that blankets the world in eerie anonymity - registers that he understands something is not right. The shortness of his breath is suddenly too evident, the harsh rasps echoing loudly in the preternatural calm. His steps slowing, he pauses, dark head lifting as he glances warily around. A shiver skitters across mottled skin as he holds himself in high alert. Waiting, watching, his pulse a nearly audible beat in the still air.
And then it comes. A low, rumbling growl that raises the hair along his spine. Shying sideways, he gathers the darkness to him like a protective shield. A shape forms beside him, familiar and friendly - a dark, seemingly ephemeral wolf, lips lifted into a tangible snarl.
Pushing onwards, the yearling colt known as Ether breaks into a lope, the shadowy canid running silently beside him. Deeper into the forest, into the trees he has so long called friend. Only they no longer seem so benevolent, so welcoming. But they are all he knows, so he continues despite the sweat beginning to slick his sides, despite the burn of his oxygen deprived lungs. Despite the fear hanging heavily in the air.
The fear is his, thick and dark and strange. It resides inside his breast beside his rapidly beating heart, aided by the close trees, the reaching, spindly branches. This is not his world. These are not his shadows [those as familiar to him as his own skin]. They are darker, more suffocating. And despite his strangely perfect eyesight, somehow everything seems vastly more dull and murky. He fears these shadows, fears their weight.
But he fears the distant snarling behind more. So deeper, farther, he runs. Allowing the the aberrant, terrifying forest to swallow him whole.</p><p id="etherchildname">Ether</p><p id="etherchildquote2">Shadow son of Shahrizai and Ilka</p></div><div id="etherchildpic"><img src="https://s3.postimg.org/t9uy4hbs3/Ether.jpg"/></div></div></center>
When he leaves today, it is not with companionship in mind, however. No, it is to grow and expand his knowledge. To <i>learn</i>.
When he leaves the haven of home, he is cloaked in midnight, the dusky blue and freckled white of his lanky, youthful frame nearly indiscernible from the shifting shadows he has grown so comfortable with. He had been born to them after all. So it should come as no surprise that when he stumbles inadvertently into a foreign world, he does not immediately notice. He rarely sees the sunlight as it is, so its absence is not immediately notable.
It isn't until the silence - that ominous stillness that blankets the world in eerie anonymity - registers that he understands something is not right. The shortness of his breath is suddenly too evident, the harsh rasps echoing loudly in the preternatural calm. His steps slowing, he pauses, dark head lifting as he glances warily around. A shiver skitters across mottled skin as he holds himself in high alert. Waiting, watching, his pulse a nearly audible beat in the still air.
And then it comes. A low, rumbling growl that raises the hair along his spine. Shying sideways, he gathers the darkness to him like a protective shield. A shape forms beside him, familiar and friendly - a dark, seemingly ephemeral wolf, lips lifted into a tangible snarl.
Pushing onwards, the yearling colt known as Ether breaks into a lope, the shadowy canid running silently beside him. Deeper into the forest, into the trees he has so long called friend. Only they no longer seem so benevolent, so welcoming. But they are all he knows, so he continues despite the sweat beginning to slick his sides, despite the burn of his oxygen deprived lungs. Despite the fear hanging heavily in the air.
The fear is his, thick and dark and strange. It resides inside his breast beside his rapidly beating heart, aided by the close trees, the reaching, spindly branches. This is not his world. These are not his shadows [those as familiar to him as his own skin]. They are darker, more suffocating. And despite his strangely perfect eyesight, somehow everything seems vastly more dull and murky. He fears these shadows, fears their weight.
But he fears the distant snarling behind more. So deeper, farther, he runs. Allowing the the aberrant, terrifying forest to swallow him whole.</p><p id="etherchildname">Ether</p><p id="etherchildquote2">Shadow son of Shahrizai and Ilka</p></div><div id="etherchildpic"><img src="https://s3.postimg.org/t9uy4hbs3/Ether.jpg"/></div></div></center>