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03-03-2014, 06:20 PM
OBERON
We must be killers, children of the wild ones.
We must be killers, children of the wild ones.
The frozen silence of a winter’s aurora gave away at the sound of the pristine snowpack’s defiance under the weight of my iron coated hooves, iced trees sagging under the weight of a fortnight’s snowfall. Dulcet beams cascaded through lush tree stems and glazed vapours, a sea of a night’s stars swaying in the snow as I progressed on sable shanks. A drizzle of white carpeted the forest floor, only to be tainted by the disposal of archaic woodlands tall as castle walls. What'd allured me into the endless steppes of verglas had begun to fade like a memory of yesterday’s dinner, murmuring, but not quite strumming on the strings of my consciousness.
The days had begun to grow tedious tens of miles ago, alabaster clad redwoods greeting me far too jovially as my eyelids slid open at the crack of every dawn. Wafting currents of smoulder rose from crinkled nostrils at my every breath, even the salutations of the sun could not mellow the chill of the northern breeze. Was there no end to this mundane topography of monotony? I'd far too long ago passed the threshold of retracing the trail I'd left behind, but found no satisfaction in continuing the endless rode of nothingness I had initially set out on. Yet, I had to keep moving one direction or another.
A sigh escaped the cavity of my chest, quickly replaced by a snort not far from the malignant kind. Bloody ‘ell. Now what? Standing dumbstruck in the halo of sunbeams I must surely have been a sight for eyes, pelt matt from the obsidian winter coat that had crept upon me and dried, salted sweat. I arched my neck; the crew cut mane of mine wobbling to either side of my crest. This place deserved a proper cursing by the best ability of my extensive vocabulary of profanities, but before I was able to complete swearing worthy of a damn trooper, sunrays flicker at the corner of my eye and my string of attention shatters as rapid as they assembled.
The days had begun to grow tedious tens of miles ago, alabaster clad redwoods greeting me far too jovially as my eyelids slid open at the crack of every dawn. Wafting currents of smoulder rose from crinkled nostrils at my every breath, even the salutations of the sun could not mellow the chill of the northern breeze. Was there no end to this mundane topography of monotony? I'd far too long ago passed the threshold of retracing the trail I'd left behind, but found no satisfaction in continuing the endless rode of nothingness I had initially set out on. Yet, I had to keep moving one direction or another.
A sigh escaped the cavity of my chest, quickly replaced by a snort not far from the malignant kind. Bloody ‘ell. Now what? Standing dumbstruck in the halo of sunbeams I must surely have been a sight for eyes, pelt matt from the obsidian winter coat that had crept upon me and dried, salted sweat. I arched my neck; the crew cut mane of mine wobbling to either side of my crest. This place deserved a proper cursing by the best ability of my extensive vocabulary of profanities, but before I was able to complete swearing worthy of a damn trooper, sunrays flicker at the corner of my eye and my string of attention shatters as rapid as they assembled.
