04-25-2021, 08:33 AM
[align=center][div style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 8pt; max-width: 65%; text-align: justify; line-height:120%"]A spectre tethered by imperceivable chains, their loop a weight about his neck, friction wearing against his resolve. Whom bore the other end, held in unknowing grasp, to learn of such was to embark on an errand befit only a fool, the conclusion unwritten. A guess he bore, educated though too numerous the directions it pulled, demanded he be fixated on one while the other slipped away. There was no one handler, between hands exchanged, but the aggravated mutt on a collar was Vincent all the while oblivious were they.
Maybe the draw which diverted his progress, roused from lacklustre slumber sometime ago and sought something to fill the hours between than and dawn. Or it may have been exhaustion lay heavy, pressed against shoulders that trembled, protesting the tightening muscle that renewed the agony long grown overwhelming. The latter preferred and thus chosen, held as inscrutable truth. It was not, could never be, but he was an old fool and too stubborn for his own good.
The harsh cries the first sign of the horizon bearing more than the sun that rose in slow incriminates, their number too grand. Mind turned, at first settled on the prospect a feast had been found and called their brethren. Upon heels came the notion death had taken one of their own, heart seized, worry a jagged blade sliding into his chest. Their movement made dismissal of this easy, set only on causing commotion, departure imminent, supposedly fulfilled their task. Closer he drew, grown unsure, heady and nauseating the conflicting emotions that welled, gathered in his chest until it seemed incapable of holding anything else.
Yet it may, teeth digging into the tip of tongue, held as vision landed upon sight familiar but unwelcome. Too well known the two, thunderous grown the beat of his heart as steps quickened, breath catching, slipping forth in ragged gasps. Dense each with the rancid smell, decay and rot not set in, fresh that bore aloft on gentle air currents, distinct still. Halt unceremonious, fall seemed imminent, barely caught and trajectory shifted, staggering steps bringing him closer.
A bird. Relief heavily present in sudden expulsion of held breath, quick study making evident the only casualty was the raven. Gone was it as vision fixed upon Aesior, watched repeated motions, almost affectionate the manner smoothed plumage. Behind did tail twitch and flick with an irregular tempo, mouth working though no sound would come forth. Even as his better judgement decreed he must hate the other such proved impossible, too few and far between those who had not turned from him, seen the vile acts he had performed and decided he was unworthy of second chance. No such act had Aesior performed and he would not turn away from the other.
Still his mind cried, raged against his slow motion, outward reaching to gently touch against the side of the grim. Empty words of comfort rose to his tongue, swallowed as he realised they offered nothing. What good may come from them, how may he even dare to pretend he knew the grief worn so plainly against fog hued visage. He could not, thus the silence was allowed to continue, unknowingly awaiting an answer to the query Fraggle had posed.
Maybe the draw which diverted his progress, roused from lacklustre slumber sometime ago and sought something to fill the hours between than and dawn. Or it may have been exhaustion lay heavy, pressed against shoulders that trembled, protesting the tightening muscle that renewed the agony long grown overwhelming. The latter preferred and thus chosen, held as inscrutable truth. It was not, could never be, but he was an old fool and too stubborn for his own good.
The harsh cries the first sign of the horizon bearing more than the sun that rose in slow incriminates, their number too grand. Mind turned, at first settled on the prospect a feast had been found and called their brethren. Upon heels came the notion death had taken one of their own, heart seized, worry a jagged blade sliding into his chest. Their movement made dismissal of this easy, set only on causing commotion, departure imminent, supposedly fulfilled their task. Closer he drew, grown unsure, heady and nauseating the conflicting emotions that welled, gathered in his chest until it seemed incapable of holding anything else.
Yet it may, teeth digging into the tip of tongue, held as vision landed upon sight familiar but unwelcome. Too well known the two, thunderous grown the beat of his heart as steps quickened, breath catching, slipping forth in ragged gasps. Dense each with the rancid smell, decay and rot not set in, fresh that bore aloft on gentle air currents, distinct still. Halt unceremonious, fall seemed imminent, barely caught and trajectory shifted, staggering steps bringing him closer.
A bird. Relief heavily present in sudden expulsion of held breath, quick study making evident the only casualty was the raven. Gone was it as vision fixed upon Aesior, watched repeated motions, almost affectionate the manner smoothed plumage. Behind did tail twitch and flick with an irregular tempo, mouth working though no sound would come forth. Even as his better judgement decreed he must hate the other such proved impossible, too few and far between those who had not turned from him, seen the vile acts he had performed and decided he was unworthy of second chance. No such act had Aesior performed and he would not turn away from the other.
Still his mind cried, raged against his slow motion, outward reaching to gently touch against the side of the grim. Empty words of comfort rose to his tongue, swallowed as he realised they offered nothing. What good may come from them, how may he even dare to pretend he knew the grief worn so plainly against fog hued visage. He could not, thus the silence was allowed to continue, unknowingly awaiting an answer to the query Fraggle had posed.