07-16-2015, 05:24 AM
drink the poision lightly
there are deeper and darker things than you
When you suffer from insomnia, nothing is real. Everything you see, you feel becomes heightened. The chirp of a nearby avian creature seems greater, louder than it really is. The snap of a dry, bare twig beneath your feet makes your insides recoil, your bones knock against one another with a fearful delight. And it takes something from you, your life, your lustre. Yet I have not slept for over a year, perhaps even longer still. Time does not have meaning to me no longer; the moon comes up, as does the sun, and it does this over and over again. As though the repetition is meant to lull me into the throes of sleep. But it never does.
My wanderings, as always, land me in the Field. They always say you always come back to the scene of the crime, or in this case the first place you ever knew. The grass feels springier than it was upon the autumn I had been found. And it seemed far longer that I have called Beqanna, and the Chamber, my home. The members of the pine laden earth, my companions. My sapphire eyes scan the horizon, as always my golden frame lurks the shadows; between the chamber and the field, it is the safest place from the sun, and my golden touched form is not as bearing of the tangerine rays than most. My salmon nose, peeled in places, was lifted up, nostrils inhaling the summer scents. The wildflowers in full bloom, the grasses swaying in the breeze, and there, right there a lone form wandering, nose to the ground, eyes as lost and as mysterious as a starless night.
I choose her to approach; there is something about mysteries that I just love to try and solve. There was some secret satisfaction I had when I could fit all the pieces of a puzzle together. My lips part and I taste the air, salmon tongue rolling over those soft velvet lips. Her body seems to radiate a uniqueness, a strange, yet beautiful thing. I had lived now in Beqanna long enough to know that not everything was what it seemed to be, and this elegant, fragile creature could quite possibly blow my head clean off. So I approach, my willowy legs elegant as a dancer, yet strong and purposefully, striding closer and closer until I stand just before her, dipping my muzzle a fraction, blue eyes roaming her. I daren't touch, daren't even speak as loud as normality, for just glancing at her seemed too much. She was a fragile thing, like the clouds, wispy and fleeting. And yet, like a gleaming star she attracted me, and I must find out what mysteries lurk Beqanna's borders.
'Hello.' my tone is bittersweet, like the nectar of the swaying wildflowers, ye the thorns of a dozen roses weave beneath. 'I'm Engelsfors, from the Chamber.' a greeting, a repetition that comes so natural now, and then, with a sway of my head and a tilt of my muzzle, 'You look as lost as a fallen star. Where... what are you looking for?'
.
My wanderings, as always, land me in the Field. They always say you always come back to the scene of the crime, or in this case the first place you ever knew. The grass feels springier than it was upon the autumn I had been found. And it seemed far longer that I have called Beqanna, and the Chamber, my home. The members of the pine laden earth, my companions. My sapphire eyes scan the horizon, as always my golden frame lurks the shadows; between the chamber and the field, it is the safest place from the sun, and my golden touched form is not as bearing of the tangerine rays than most. My salmon nose, peeled in places, was lifted up, nostrils inhaling the summer scents. The wildflowers in full bloom, the grasses swaying in the breeze, and there, right there a lone form wandering, nose to the ground, eyes as lost and as mysterious as a starless night.
I choose her to approach; there is something about mysteries that I just love to try and solve. There was some secret satisfaction I had when I could fit all the pieces of a puzzle together. My lips part and I taste the air, salmon tongue rolling over those soft velvet lips. Her body seems to radiate a uniqueness, a strange, yet beautiful thing. I had lived now in Beqanna long enough to know that not everything was what it seemed to be, and this elegant, fragile creature could quite possibly blow my head clean off. So I approach, my willowy legs elegant as a dancer, yet strong and purposefully, striding closer and closer until I stand just before her, dipping my muzzle a fraction, blue eyes roaming her. I daren't touch, daren't even speak as loud as normality, for just glancing at her seemed too much. She was a fragile thing, like the clouds, wispy and fleeting. And yet, like a gleaming star she attracted me, and I must find out what mysteries lurk Beqanna's borders.
'Hello.' my tone is bittersweet, like the nectar of the swaying wildflowers, ye the thorns of a dozen roses weave beneath. 'I'm Engelsfors, from the Chamber.' a greeting, a repetition that comes so natural now, and then, with a sway of my head and a tilt of my muzzle, 'You look as lost as a fallen star. Where... what are you looking for?'
.
engelsfors
professor of the chamber