02-08-2009, 12:19 AM
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For Shell
The cotton colored canine rarely visited the mountain. For her Halcyon Mountain was like a border one did not pass and it was pointless to approach it. Only twice had she crossed it, once coming here originally, fleeing the fire with everyone else, and again on an excursion with Mew to their grandmother’s grave—forgotten in the old territories. The Dahlia de Mai Rosea had come to the mountain on other occasions, meeting Pilot of Shadowed Sun among other uneventful trips, but she had never thought about passing it. The one time she had broken through the border, Mew had coaxed her into leaving the new world and visiting the old one. Walking in the ashy lands was like walking among the dead, and no doubt that indeed many souls had been lost in the fire. It was not an experience Cer wished to repeat, but even still she found herself stare up the mountain slope, wondering what, if anything, had changed on the other side.
The glaring sun bounced off the snow of the mountain, intensifying the whiteness of the slope and making it hard to stare for too long. Turning away, Cercelee slumped into a heap at the base of a lonely tree, unwilling to bring herself to scale the slope. Would life be returning in the spring, born again from the ashes? Or had they brought all the life here? Surely, Cercelee decided, change happen more when beings were about to bring on that change. Dahlia had changed drastically within the last moon cycle and it seemed more changes were on the horizon. It was exhausting just think about it and Cercelee soon found herself the victim of slumber, vulnerable to whatever creature might cross her path.
For Shell
The cotton colored canine rarely visited the mountain. For her Halcyon Mountain was like a border one did not pass and it was pointless to approach it. Only twice had she crossed it, once coming here originally, fleeing the fire with everyone else, and again on an excursion with Mew to their grandmother’s grave—forgotten in the old territories. The Dahlia de Mai Rosea had come to the mountain on other occasions, meeting Pilot of Shadowed Sun among other uneventful trips, but she had never thought about passing it. The one time she had broken through the border, Mew had coaxed her into leaving the new world and visiting the old one. Walking in the ashy lands was like walking among the dead, and no doubt that indeed many souls had been lost in the fire. It was not an experience Cer wished to repeat, but even still she found herself stare up the mountain slope, wondering what, if anything, had changed on the other side.
The glaring sun bounced off the snow of the mountain, intensifying the whiteness of the slope and making it hard to stare for too long. Turning away, Cercelee slumped into a heap at the base of a lonely tree, unwilling to bring herself to scale the slope. Would life be returning in the spring, born again from the ashes? Or had they brought all the life here? Surely, Cercelee decided, change happen more when beings were about to bring on that change. Dahlia had changed drastically within the last moon cycle and it seemed more changes were on the horizon. It was exhausting just think about it and Cercelee soon found herself the victim of slumber, vulnerable to whatever creature might cross her path.
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