10-06-2018, 06:57 PM
hold me in this wild, wild world
'cause in your warmth I forget how cold it can be
'cause in your warmth I forget how cold it can be
The world is stirring around them, but some things never change. Twice a day, the water clears a path to their island, and Brennen watches to see if anyone crosses. Other things do change – before, the Kraken would have had to make his way to the crossing physically. Now, he simply waits for the ocean to tell him if it has been disturbed. Only then does he leave his sleeping family and go to the beach, but now he has economy of time on his side. One breath he is in the grove, a blink and he is standing in the bright sand, warmth still radiating up from where the day’s sun had heated it.
“Hello,” he calls, voice low, as he walks across the shore to meet them. Glowing particles still cling to their legs, the bottom of the tails, and the glow reaches out behind them like blue stars on the expanse of the sea. He loves his island at night, but he’s not used to visitors at night…at least, not friendly visitors in peaceful times. But a brief, unobtrusive touch tells him that whatever Ilma has to share, it’s not bad news; and so his muscles relax fractionally, and he comes to a halt before them with an easy mind. “Ilma,” he nods to her, a little smile on his face, and then nods to the stranger. “I’m Brennen,” he introduces himself to the man, “Welcome to Ischia.”
Somewhere behind him, his children and his mate slumber, and dream; the people of his Kingdom do so as well. He would be perfectly please, if their current situation never changed.
“Hello,” he calls, voice low, as he walks across the shore to meet them. Glowing particles still cling to their legs, the bottom of the tails, and the glow reaches out behind them like blue stars on the expanse of the sea. He loves his island at night, but he’s not used to visitors at night…at least, not friendly visitors in peaceful times. But a brief, unobtrusive touch tells him that whatever Ilma has to share, it’s not bad news; and so his muscles relax fractionally, and he comes to a halt before them with an easy mind. “Ilma,” he nods to her, a little smile on his face, and then nods to the stranger. “I’m Brennen,” he introduces himself to the man, “Welcome to Ischia.”
Somewhere behind him, his children and his mate slumber, and dream; the people of his Kingdom do so as well. He would be perfectly please, if their current situation never changed.
hold me in this wild, wild world
and in your heat I feel how cold it can get
and in your heat I feel how cold it can get
BRENNEN