Post by .Rabid Lycan. on Apr 17, 2010 1:46:13 GMT -5
Without doubt, snow was the essence of purity. Its fragility in its lofty descent from the heavens, gleaming with an ivory sheen akin to the skin of clouds. Its ability to settle undisturbed among its brethren—simply content to sit there in tranquil silence. That was purity, wasn’t it?
But amidst the sky, the individual snowflakes combated mercilessly in their earthbound tumble. Suddenly, were they spiritual gifts, or rejected angels dispelled from paradise? In a violent clash of shreds of ice, the snow plummets to the ground to lie, dead, beside the rest of its fallen siblings, dreaming of the day when they might wage war again.
Was the pure, then, tainted with impurity? Could you distinguish the qualities if you tried?
One particular snowflake was interrupted from its mission of bloodlust by a shifting silhouette. The figure, lupine in shape and texture, inched onwards, lethargic motions spurring almost mechanical movements. She jerked forward, further flecks of sleet dissolving on contact with her nose, and millions more lost within her shedding coat.
And it’s supposed to be spring—figures there’d still be snow. Just my luck… ‘course, I’m also heading toward a mountainside, so I guess I should’ve planned this better.
Sanceul lifted her muzzle to the sky, dismissing the challenges of pure and impure, of good and evil, of right and wrong—it no longer mattered. For the moment, only the chill of the mountainous breeze provided company, and she vaguely wondered if she could find any prey in the area.
Her paws shifted, toes aimlessly brushing against the outcrop of stones and dead foliage that lay underpaw. She was weighted with drowsiness, and no longer remembered why she had trekked so far towards the mountain range. Nevertheless, she opted to settle herself right then and there, curling tightly into a sphere and pulling her forelegs beneath her. Meanwhile, scarlet stains remained on her coat—she hadn’t bothered to cleanse herself of blood.
Maybe I’ll find a stream later she resolved, eyelids forming a seal across her skull. For the first time since her childhood, she dared to sleep out in the open. Alone.
But amidst the sky, the individual snowflakes combated mercilessly in their earthbound tumble. Suddenly, were they spiritual gifts, or rejected angels dispelled from paradise? In a violent clash of shreds of ice, the snow plummets to the ground to lie, dead, beside the rest of its fallen siblings, dreaming of the day when they might wage war again.
Was the pure, then, tainted with impurity? Could you distinguish the qualities if you tried?
One particular snowflake was interrupted from its mission of bloodlust by a shifting silhouette. The figure, lupine in shape and texture, inched onwards, lethargic motions spurring almost mechanical movements. She jerked forward, further flecks of sleet dissolving on contact with her nose, and millions more lost within her shedding coat.
And it’s supposed to be spring—figures there’d still be snow. Just my luck… ‘course, I’m also heading toward a mountainside, so I guess I should’ve planned this better.
Sanceul lifted her muzzle to the sky, dismissing the challenges of pure and impure, of good and evil, of right and wrong—it no longer mattered. For the moment, only the chill of the mountainous breeze provided company, and she vaguely wondered if she could find any prey in the area.
Her paws shifted, toes aimlessly brushing against the outcrop of stones and dead foliage that lay underpaw. She was weighted with drowsiness, and no longer remembered why she had trekked so far towards the mountain range. Nevertheless, she opted to settle herself right then and there, curling tightly into a sphere and pulling her forelegs beneath her. Meanwhile, scarlet stains remained on her coat—she hadn’t bothered to cleanse herself of blood.
Maybe I’ll find a stream later she resolved, eyelids forming a seal across her skull. For the first time since her childhood, she dared to sleep out in the open. Alone.