Lost Souls
Jul 25, 2019 12:30:22 GMT -8
Post by fierfly05 on Jul 25, 2019 12:30:22 GMT -8
((Meds and anyone else who would like to join))
Levi:
Summer was the life of the year. Spring was its birth, summer was the life, winter was the long wait for rebirth, and autumn was the death. Summer was over. Any other beast might have guessed it by how the leaves changed colors around him and ferns curled in on themselves to go to sleep. Owls winged past in their silvery winter plumage and crows mourned the fresh growing things on branches in their murders. The nip of the chill in the air or the lack of the sun may have tipped off anyone else.
Levi knew because the sky bled.
The life and warmth of summer bled out of the sky that night, with the scarlet dripping from the setting sun to the blackened branches below, and down again to the ground as leaves swirled and fell in the waning light. It was the time of year again when faes awoke to play havoc on mortals' lives in cold and driving prey to fear and scarcity, and at any other time, he would have been delighted. Faes and pixies he was determined to meet before his life ended, not that he was in any great danger of that happening soon, but tonight as the sun dipped behind the horizon, he was in no mind to enter their gardens of shadows.
Nose on his paws, copper eyes focused intently on nothing in particular. Maybe the twining roots of the trees over yonder, or a stone nestled in its blanket of the season. Maybe on the glorious sunset of red and gold - blood and ichor, maybe on nothing at all. There wasn't even a breeze to stir the magpie feather in his ear, and he provided no movement to stir it himself.
Spirits were thick in the wood that night. He could feel them.
"Aren't you coming to the tree?"
"I told you to run."
Woods were haunted places, that was why he liked them. But here there was a hopelessness about spirithood that he felt compelled to stop and feel for. What sorts of ghosts roamed the earth? Good ghosts? Evil ghosts? Ghosts of monsters or ghosts of sweet creatures? Flower spirits? River spirits? Were there ghosts of memories and laughs once laughed here? Or were they spirits of what was yet to come? Spirits of dreams that had never come to fruition? The unborn mourning their wait to come to earth - or the veil of scars it would be when they did come? There were ghosts of old creatures. Were there ghosts of young creatures as well? Was there somewhere in this wood three little noses and tails following one after another in a train to a mother that would never kiss them again?
Strange things had happened here, and strange things would continue to happen. Tonight the fairies had no claim to this place - he would catch none sliding down the roots or weaving spiderwebs into each other's hair. Fairies were one thing, and spirits were another. Tonight ghosts walked this plane of earth, a time of dying and memories long forgotten. This was their ground tonight, and it was sacred to them - outsiders were not welcomed, but maybe, if he stayed still enough, they would take no notice of him and they would pass with goodwill on their way without him.