Post by Bandersnatch on Aug 13, 2008 23:21:06 GMT -5
She knew it.
Each rumble of the soil and quiver of leaves cried out.
Excitement. Longing.
Something was happening. She knew it because the land told her about it, whispered little nothings into her ear. She already knew, but she let the land speak in it’s rushed sigh of tones.
There was movement again, the bays of the lands inhabitants, the smell of their marks. But more than that, there was that tense buzz in the air, the feeling that there was something waiting on the horizon.
She busied herself as she always did, nipping at the little plants others seemed to think so significant as not to warrant attention. But she did, and she was rewarded with their powers. Tearing, shoving them into place.
The ring of plants around her neck now had become a proud mane of dried and shriveling specimens, perched and prepared for their time to prove themselves.
Her collection continued to swell, fresh green in amongst the blackening mess of others. It was as she approached a patch near the base of an ancient, knarled and very dead tree that the whisper of leaves became louder and louder, drowning out, smothering the sound of everything else. Their voices were like huge gushes of wind, wooshing and dancing and whistling out.
Somewhere in the distance a howl rang out. She didn’t hear it, though her ears did.
Her attention drifted up, gaze drifting silently along each decaying limb, studying. Yes, she was listening.
And then there was a sprout. The tiniest little fleck of emerald, that grew, slowly and then faster, spreading out to form a lone leaf. More poked out beside it, and then like a burst the action was repeating, a ripple spreading out along the whole tree. A mottle of greens that quickly gained their autumn colour, red leaking deeply through until the wind broke through, ripping them away, the deep ruby leaves turning to liquid, to blood. It splattered the land as far as the she-wolf could see, flecks of red rain drenching her coat, wanting to drag her to the earth.
And just like that it vanished, her matted coat as bone dry as it had been before the whole ordeal.
Lips curled into a wicked grin, shrunken pupils staring blankly through heavy-lidded eyes.
Laughter raised in her throat, little more than the sound of hn hn hn hn leaking from clenched teeth.
“Life lends itself to these lands once more, and it shall gift it’s death unto others.” She announced to no one, to everyone, voice rolling like a wave, breaking against the shore of tree trunks.
[Hallucinations yaaaay]
Each rumble of the soil and quiver of leaves cried out.
Excitement. Longing.
Something was happening. She knew it because the land told her about it, whispered little nothings into her ear. She already knew, but she let the land speak in it’s rushed sigh of tones.
There was movement again, the bays of the lands inhabitants, the smell of their marks. But more than that, there was that tense buzz in the air, the feeling that there was something waiting on the horizon.
She busied herself as she always did, nipping at the little plants others seemed to think so significant as not to warrant attention. But she did, and she was rewarded with their powers. Tearing, shoving them into place.
The ring of plants around her neck now had become a proud mane of dried and shriveling specimens, perched and prepared for their time to prove themselves.
Her collection continued to swell, fresh green in amongst the blackening mess of others. It was as she approached a patch near the base of an ancient, knarled and very dead tree that the whisper of leaves became louder and louder, drowning out, smothering the sound of everything else. Their voices were like huge gushes of wind, wooshing and dancing and whistling out.
Somewhere in the distance a howl rang out. She didn’t hear it, though her ears did.
Her attention drifted up, gaze drifting silently along each decaying limb, studying. Yes, she was listening.
And then there was a sprout. The tiniest little fleck of emerald, that grew, slowly and then faster, spreading out to form a lone leaf. More poked out beside it, and then like a burst the action was repeating, a ripple spreading out along the whole tree. A mottle of greens that quickly gained their autumn colour, red leaking deeply through until the wind broke through, ripping them away, the deep ruby leaves turning to liquid, to blood. It splattered the land as far as the she-wolf could see, flecks of red rain drenching her coat, wanting to drag her to the earth.
And just like that it vanished, her matted coat as bone dry as it had been before the whole ordeal.
Lips curled into a wicked grin, shrunken pupils staring blankly through heavy-lidded eyes.
Laughter raised in her throat, little more than the sound of hn hn hn hn leaking from clenched teeth.
“Life lends itself to these lands once more, and it shall gift it’s death unto others.” She announced to no one, to everyone, voice rolling like a wave, breaking against the shore of tree trunks.
[Hallucinations yaaaay]
