08-04-2019, 02:31 PM
[font=trebuchet ms]Lanterns had been commonplace in the underground, usually lit by fireflies or other creatures with bio-luminescence- a term he had heard thrown around by his caretakers, which according to them meant "living things that glow in the dark." They had lied to him about other things, but there was no reason for them to lie about the meaning of such a beautiful word. These lanterns, though, were lit by fire, and intended to be sent away for good luck. Did he believe in good luck? He wasn't sure.
Still, the captain believed in it, so maybe there was something to the ritual. Lumbering over to the pile of supplies, Darksouls lowered his head, allowing Inkquill to hop off his antlers and onto the sand. Fixing his eyes on the pieces of cloth, he pondered what to write on them. What sort of wishes did he have?
When Inkquill looked back at him and offered a curious quack, Darksouls looked over at the bowl of brushes and lifted his head slightly. "Please get me a brush," he asked softly, twitching his ears. Inkquill waddled over to the bowl, picked up one of the brushes in his bill, and brought it back, setting the brush at Darksouls' hooves.
He had a way to write now, but not a clue as to what to write. What did he actually want? For so long, he had tried not to think about what he wanted, focusing instead on the greater good. Not that he didn't want the greater good, but most people had other things they wanted as well. Wishing that the underground had found a way out of its destruction seemed pointless now, and he couldn't find it in himself to wish anything for his parents or caretakers.
Taking a deep breath, Darksouls took the brush, and started painting letters onto the lantern cloth in barely-legible script. He wasn't much for writing, but that was okay. He had figured out a wish, two wishes in fact, and that wish would remain a secret between himself and whoever might grant it.
I want siblings to be okay, one side read. I want to find a purpose, read the other.
Setting down the brush in front of Inkquill, Darksouls then lifted his head to face Goldenluxury. "How do we light these?" he asked, allowing a soft smile onto his face. With his hooves he might not be able to do it without help, but he could ask.
Still, the captain believed in it, so maybe there was something to the ritual. Lumbering over to the pile of supplies, Darksouls lowered his head, allowing Inkquill to hop off his antlers and onto the sand. Fixing his eyes on the pieces of cloth, he pondered what to write on them. What sort of wishes did he have?
When Inkquill looked back at him and offered a curious quack, Darksouls looked over at the bowl of brushes and lifted his head slightly. "Please get me a brush," he asked softly, twitching his ears. Inkquill waddled over to the bowl, picked up one of the brushes in his bill, and brought it back, setting the brush at Darksouls' hooves.
He had a way to write now, but not a clue as to what to write. What did he actually want? For so long, he had tried not to think about what he wanted, focusing instead on the greater good. Not that he didn't want the greater good, but most people had other things they wanted as well. Wishing that the underground had found a way out of its destruction seemed pointless now, and he couldn't find it in himself to wish anything for his parents or caretakers.
Taking a deep breath, Darksouls took the brush, and started painting letters onto the lantern cloth in barely-legible script. He wasn't much for writing, but that was okay. He had figured out a wish, two wishes in fact, and that wish would remain a secret between himself and whoever might grant it.
I want siblings to be okay, one side read. I want to find a purpose, read the other.
Setting down the brush in front of Inkquill, Darksouls then lifted his head to face Goldenluxury. "How do we light these?" he asked, allowing a soft smile onto his face. With his hooves he might not be able to do it without help, but he could ask.
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