11-08-2007, 03:56 AM
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Paha! Clone High = random!love. Don't ask, I rewrote this about six times. It really wanted to get rambly and/or emo on me, for some reason. Silliness. She had followed the river upstream for far longer than she had meant to. Proof that a drifting mind and a small whim could take you a long ways if they can hold their notes long enough. So could the silent promise of time turned back. The closer that she came to the mountain of western Bleeding Souls, the more the chill of autumn rolled back to late summer temperatures. It was a dreamer’s notion, turning back time, but Poe was hardly the adult her age deemed her. Wearing the dress of a white and green fairy costume and a hefty man’s belt around her heavy hips, she was a confused trick-or-treater hide-and=seeker along the river bank, collecting first the red and yellow leaves that came down its route, then tracking the source of the red water. Blood water, she thought at first in the morbid way she naturally took to. Or maybe it was simply the double-backed memory of her own blood and breath pouring into that rough current. It didn’t matter in the end. She found won the game, and discovered the steamy stench of Acheron Peak’s natural hot tubs, and flaunted her victory for a night and a day. With those human-child’s clothes spilled feet from the edge, the small, dark werewolf lay in the shallows of a low-lying hot spring. Her slick-drenched arms were stretched out to the lifeless rock and dirt that made up this pool’s deck, shuffling a handful of small bones with an eye of half-understanding and half-bullshitting. “Hmm. Storm’s a’brewin’,” she muttered at the bird remains, squinting her golden-green eyes in a mild display of critical thinking. It only resulted in a sneeze. |