.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
Gone was the heat of Tallsun.
Gone, too, was the pride of an Elephant. The King, though knowing that his choice was right for the Edge and his family, was not sure that it was the right choice for him. There’s equal parts selfish and selflessness in leadership. And Tembovu was finding himself at the mercy of one and vehemence of the other.
Black-rimmed ears tilted back as too-dark navy eyes lined with too many lines surveyed the mostly-cleared section of land that hung precariously over the crumbling limestone cliffs. He could not ignore the stirring of pride in his chest—how quickly the Edge rose tohis their goddess’s challenge. But he also could not ignore the twinge of guilt his chest—he had done nothing to help this. He, the large, brawny, and towering Elephant had not aided in clearing this land.
Mbwene hung behind her bonded, blue eyes worried in a wrinkled grey face. Though she shared a part of the Elephant soul, her own emotions were not those of the King’s. Hers were happy—she liked having the King near his family. It made them happy, there were no more fights, she had grown quite fond of Remy…but the part she shared with Tembovu was filled with conflicting angst, loneliness, and joy.
And those conflict manifested themselves as a flying earth and tearing roots; the King thought to use his magic and burn away the remaining shrubs. He thought to shift into his elephantine form and clear the earth with his ivory tusks.
But he didn’t.
Sweat clung to his hide in the humid, oppressive heat of Orangemoon’s mid-day; a leftover tiding of Tallsun. This was sweat-equity: if he could not give the Edge his leadership, then he would give it his blood, sweat, andtears.
Gone, too, was the pride of an Elephant. The King, though knowing that his choice was right for the Edge and his family, was not sure that it was the right choice for him. There’s equal parts selfish and selflessness in leadership. And Tembovu was finding himself at the mercy of one and vehemence of the other.
Black-rimmed ears tilted back as too-dark navy eyes lined with too many lines surveyed the mostly-cleared section of land that hung precariously over the crumbling limestone cliffs. He could not ignore the stirring of pride in his chest—how quickly the Edge rose to
Mbwene hung behind her bonded, blue eyes worried in a wrinkled grey face. Though she shared a part of the Elephant soul, her own emotions were not those of the King’s. Hers were happy—she liked having the King near his family. It made them happy, there were no more fights, she had grown quite fond of Remy…but the part she shared with Tembovu was filled with conflicting angst, loneliness, and joy.
And those conflict manifested themselves as a flying earth and tearing roots; the King thought to use his magic and burn away the remaining shrubs. He thought to shift into his elephantine form and clear the earth with his ivory tusks.
But he didn’t.
Sweat clung to his hide in the humid, oppressive heat of Orangemoon’s mid-day; a leftover tiding of Tallsun. This was sweat-equity: if he could not give the Edge his leadership, then he would give it his blood, sweat, and
Tembovu
The Elephant
Another clearing thread for the HQ!
Open to any.
Please tag Tembovu.
