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leave the novelist in his daydream tune
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[html] It wasn't the wintry scenery that had ultimately caught Valentine's eye in a quite uncharted area, but rather the partially frozen facet of a waterfall. The windy, snowy days had given away to one day of partially clear skies, so the sun had melted just a small fraction of the water. Valentine stood tall at its shores, brushing back his bangs with a free hand while the other clutched a handmade deerskin pack and balanced it squarely on his back. He was in a bit of a quiet debate, tilting his head and wondering if it would be worth going out and studying such a formation up close, or moving on to explore what little of the area he knew. But when he was unable to make a decision, he plopped down on the damp shore and fiddling in the sack, producing drawing paper that was yellowed from age and a piece of charcoal. If he wasn't sure, it was probably better to draw a picture of it before the whole thing melted. From the way that the water ran along its sides and over it, it was probably apt to do sooner than later. [/html]
[html] The clue was in the title, really. Tranquil Springs gave off an inevitable sense of peacefulness. Whether it was due to the quiet trickle of the streams, the dainty shape of the surrounding trees, or simply the coincidence that the light seemed to play off the water so marvellously whenever one visited the area, it could be argued that the Springs were almost a haven to the rest of Bleeding Souls. Tamerlane found the rest tranquil too, but in a different way; most of it felt dead, but contently so. This territory was alive and lush.
He walked with composure, nonchalance and without commotion, one hand tucked casually into his belt as he admired the scenery with little going on in his head besides vague admiration. The path ahead went by the young man by the waterfall, and Tamerlane walked it but did not seek to disturb him. The seated Luperci was a particularly fine specimen; very sleek, to contrast Tamerlane's dishevelled cream locks, and built with long, lean muscles. He noticed as he walked by that the stranger was indulging in the human pastime of art. How alluring hobbies tended to spread, no matter what the source. |
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