.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
11-19-2015, 12:03 AM
Nature's great masterpiece : an elephant ; the only harmless great thing.
His avowal that the Edge would be looked after was met with a single, broken, dead syllable. ”Good.” That was all the antelope-marked stallion need to being to direct his efforts. Naerys bloomed a bed of passion flowers, the Frozen’s ivory head pressing into the lilac blooms. The despair, in every sense of the word, rolled out in tangible waves, crashing into the mammoth. His ears twitched towards the Amaranthine and the Engineer as they traded words about his growing raft.
Ulrik’s words to Mauja, “Let me know when you are ready, friend,” bring the entire setting into surreal focus for the Elephant. Mauja pressed against a bed of fresh blossoms in acute anguish. An injured, compassionate Naerys hovering over the broken, glacial father. An electric mare, confused and hovering at the edges, unsure but wanting to ease his suffering. A darkly bronze, bearded man with a uniquely crafted raft. The Ascended Ophelia returning to pristine white as the last traces of blood-anger slid from her coat. And, lastly, the unmoving, roan body that was the convergence of misery.
This was not a way to remember a daughter, or any loved one. Laying in a pool of sandy, congealed blood. Stiffening with death. No, this was not the way to love, remember, or honor the dead. A few, long strides brought him closer to the grieving father. “Mauja, get up,” his low voice gentle, but firm. “Lay her in her resting place, grieve for your loss, and remember her for how she lived,” he paused, “Not like this.”
Though his words were decisive and compelling, the painful empathy he felt for his friend was written clearly and achingly on his marked face. He spoke from a place of personal suffering, wanting to help his friend in the only way he knew.
Ulrik’s words to Mauja, “Let me know when you are ready, friend,” bring the entire setting into surreal focus for the Elephant. Mauja pressed against a bed of fresh blossoms in acute anguish. An injured, compassionate Naerys hovering over the broken, glacial father. An electric mare, confused and hovering at the edges, unsure but wanting to ease his suffering. A darkly bronze, bearded man with a uniquely crafted raft. The Ascended Ophelia returning to pristine white as the last traces of blood-anger slid from her coat. And, lastly, the unmoving, roan body that was the convergence of misery.
This was not a way to remember a daughter, or any loved one. Laying in a pool of sandy, congealed blood. Stiffening with death. No, this was not the way to love, remember, or honor the dead. A few, long strides brought him closer to the grieving father. “Mauja, get up,” his low voice gentle, but firm. “Lay her in her resting place, grieve for your loss, and remember her for how she lived,” he paused, “Not like this.”
Though his words were decisive and compelling, the painful empathy he felt for his friend was written clearly and achingly on his marked face. He spoke from a place of personal suffering, wanting to help his friend in the only way he knew.
Tembovu
Please tag Tembovu.
