the Rift


In pieces. [open]

Enki Posts: N/A
Unregistered
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#1

stock: jenny downing @ flickr.com



Our prince was more than a tad bit grumpy because of the warm weather. In fact, the heat had increased his constant irritation into a full blown disdain. The sun above beamed down on his dirty body, leaving him sweaty and far more matted than usual. The clumps of hair which had been clinging to him for ages were far more insufferable than he could remember in his lifetime. It was like a blanket to top his already fur-covered body, leading to more sweat and more aggravation. To top it all off, the smell of our unwashed hero was more pungant and foul than usual, so much so that he could catch a whiff over his less-than-minty breath every once in a while.

This lead the earthen prince to seek shelter in the cold abandons of the north, not wanting to deal with the disgusting heat any longer. His clubbed feet drag along in the slushy snow as he makes his way past what was the beautifully icy arch, now nothing more than a soggy cave. His shuffling gait makes him a slow mover, but frankly he did not have the energy to take to the air. Instead he lumbers forth, good limbs tugging along the crippled, head turn inward toward the shoulder to allow for better sight for his unhindered eye. A mat of black, muddy air bounces on our Enki's forehead like a crown of grime.

So, here we have it. The crippled prince making his way slowly across the Steppes, winding between occasionally protruding boulders, sloshing toward the firmer, cooler snow. There was no real objective for our hero aside from getting cooler. Shame on him for being in such a foul mood when he is walking through one of the few retreats the Sun God has not yet managed to massacre with his rage. Our hero cares not for the bastard Sun or his childish tantrums, though. He has no idea about the overrun of the Order - did not even know such an idiotic cult had existed in his home. The only thing our dwarven stallion is currently occupied with is the laborious movement of one foot in front of the other - quite a feat when your legs look like the gnarled branches of a dead tree.
""


our hearts are drunk with a beauty our eyes could never see.




Messages In This Thread
In pieces. [open] - by Enki - 07-13-2012, 10:42 PM
RE: In pieces. [open] - by Gaspard - 08-05-2012, 04:42 PM
RE: In pieces. [open] - by Enki - 08-05-2012, 07:19 PM
RE: In pieces. [open] - by Gaspard - 08-05-2012, 07:34 PM

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