02-08-2008, 11:41 PM
[html]
It was decided; Ari Sohs didn't like the ocean. Even now as he sat on the bright beach (a few yards away from the water, mind you), the smells and the sounds were alien and fully linked to the fear he felt when his brother brought him here to leave him. The salty smell looked like Nikolaos' cold eyes — glimmering with pity and compassion — and the monotonous sound seemed like the background music for his cold statements and false promises. Still, it was something totally new for him. Ari had grown up in marshland that had been fueled by the many lakes and rivers of their home. Fresh water, all of it. This, however, was almost too vast for him to comprehend. He could see around the island in the distance just that — water. Miles and miles and miles of it. He felt completely dwarfed, and helpless. Even more so than usual.
He felt better, though. A few days of sitting around and thinking would do that to you. He felt tired of thinking, so he reserved himself to art. Nothing fancy — just a rough drawing in the sand. Holding the rough stick in his hand as if it were a delicate instrument, he added a few gouges and lines to add more texture to the boat that he was drawing. Ocean led to boat in his mind, and it was a mighty fine picture of a little one-sailed vessel. Ari had seen a boat once, one very similar to that in his drawing. It had been going down the river that fed the swamps, carrying things from the packs and towns upriver. He had been in awe of it. How lovely it would be to sail on a ship... And with that thought in mind, he absent-mindedly drew in a small silhouette on the ship's bow — perhaps himself, embracing the wide ocean in a much brighter fashion than he did presently. He hardly noticed the clouds that were converging overhead, dimming the afternoon sun. A storm might be on its way, and he was too absorbed in his thoughts to really notice.
[/html]
It was decided; Ari Sohs didn't like the ocean. Even now as he sat on the bright beach (a few yards away from the water, mind you), the smells and the sounds were alien and fully linked to the fear he felt when his brother brought him here to leave him. The salty smell looked like Nikolaos' cold eyes — glimmering with pity and compassion — and the monotonous sound seemed like the background music for his cold statements and false promises. Still, it was something totally new for him. Ari had grown up in marshland that had been fueled by the many lakes and rivers of their home. Fresh water, all of it. This, however, was almost too vast for him to comprehend. He could see around the island in the distance just that — water. Miles and miles and miles of it. He felt completely dwarfed, and helpless. Even more so than usual.
He felt better, though. A few days of sitting around and thinking would do that to you. He felt tired of thinking, so he reserved himself to art. Nothing fancy — just a rough drawing in the sand. Holding the rough stick in his hand as if it were a delicate instrument, he added a few gouges and lines to add more texture to the boat that he was drawing. Ocean led to boat in his mind, and it was a mighty fine picture of a little one-sailed vessel. Ari had seen a boat once, one very similar to that in his drawing. It had been going down the river that fed the swamps, carrying things from the packs and towns upriver. He had been in awe of it. How lovely it would be to sail on a ship... And with that thought in mind, he absent-mindedly drew in a small silhouette on the ship's bow — perhaps himself, embracing the wide ocean in a much brighter fashion than he did presently. He hardly noticed the clouds that were converging overhead, dimming the afternoon sun. A storm might be on its way, and he was too absorbed in his thoughts to really notice.