Beasts of Beyond
( taste of grief / laeglin ) - Printable Version

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( taste of grief / laeglin ) - SLOAN. - 11-02-2020

Grief manifests in ways different, personalised though the framework about acting in a way to aid in acceptance and understanding has grown rigid, a process supposedly expected of all. A natural factor occupying space in the partial routine life becomes, slotted in place without forewarning, even preparation incapable of softening edges crafted from broken glass. Possibly such was the reason they differed, subjected to extremes opposing one another without cause to breach the divide.

Half-lidded the eyes that grazed stone walls, muted the illumination filtering through overhead opening, apparent cause as a shallow drizzle left the sand sodden. About perimeter the rain had marked others converged and spoke in hushed tones, whittled away the time as awaited a break in weather. Brief the rise of thought, pondering over reception hir presence may garner should the loneliness that plagued grow too heavy, broken hir solitude with empty small talk. Dismissal easy, too much so, away turning until only hirself occupies the world once more, a lonely speck separated from all by self made blockades.

Not all.

Always others, chips carved in walls closed about heart with internal cares, always that present in gold dusted cranium of more import than that beyond. Just a factor of childhood, learning and expanding, needs fulfilled on the premise ze must be taught those golden rules in due time. The lessons had come and gone, however, slipped past without recognition or care, singular the entity ze seemed focused upon that was not hirself. Begun new thread, woven strands of anxiety and annoyance, conflicting as each grated, the push and pull desire enacted until dull the ache behind temples.

Few made note of hir departure, those who cared enough lacklustre in this observance before returned attention to prior engagement, alike hir own thinking, or possibly it was projection of hir own thoughts seeking validation where it may not be found. Slick the worn path Sloan followed with slow, cautious steps, necessary if unpleasant precaution. Known the trail carved into weathered stone, shortened journey by numerous shortcuts if not a quickened speed, all the same thoroughly damp the fox outlined in the threshold the inn boasted. Forth drawn ears, straining as small talk peppered the air somewhat hazy with smoke as tended the fire, brief the smile that rose across pale lips.

Personal comfort was to be tended to later, however, as grievous as the notion was as hasty efforts to remove excess moisture was performed before ze entered the establishment. Along outskirts Sloan tread, within looking, observed with fleeting attention the denizens and visitors alike, together brought by foul turn in weather. Fortune seemed to favour another for no hint of the sought individual was present, abandoned the more lively space of assembled mass for rooms devoid of life beyond those few seeking peace in private rooms.

"Laeglin." Tongue flattened and upward curled edges in preparation to adorn name spoken in somewhat lifted tone with the lilt of a question, unfamiliar the name against tongue held securely between clenched teeth. Further efforts at vocal addressal was forgone, ze bore no desire to allow such slip up a chance to become reality, into each room briefly peeking, each empty or occupied by another dampening already low spirits.

[member=10687]laeglin[/member]
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Roundest moon flutters on the river, night bird song coasting through heat hangs for a moment there cascades slowly down the thick air, landing somewhere by my feet waking up bugs try to repeat, a fine night to feel light
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code by Wisker