Grim Views

*thousands of words* Feline grace slips though the jungle shadows. She is fearless. Her gleaming white fur a challenge to all who would attack her. It is clear than none can match her swift death, her needle sharp claws. Foe after foe falls before her, leaving her strangely unsatisfied, their wispy ...

*thousands of words* The intensity of the angry glares buffets a confused spirit with as much vigour as the rapidly beating wings an unsteady body. The relentless nature of the assault is as constant as it is useless, the venom washing vainly over an unliving target, seeking a beating heart to wound...

*thousands of words* The dirt was as dry and crumbled as the hopes and dreams of the drowned dead. A kneeling figure, scraping a small heap together with clawed hands could try to paw it into shape but failure would be inevitable and any construction would fall into chaos almost immediately. Moistur...

*thousands of words* A cliff, a deep burnt orange, the colour of the setting summer sun, the colour of the leaves in Azshara, the colour of blood dried for many days. A view point: on your back, gazing up at the cliff, the empty sky, thankful that you can still see, that you can see, remembering the...

> *thousands of words* The late afternoon sun of this Hallowsday is a hand's breadth above the hills bordering Nagrand, casting shadows over the frenetic city nestled into the base of the peaks. A hunched figure sits on the grass, clutching something tightly to his chest, peering madly into nothing....

(( 02-05-2008, 12:55 AM )) *the pages are of fine vellum* *the discerning eye sees the faint tracery of fine veins that run in patterns unique to humanoid forms* *the sensitive eye sees the hints of colour in the skins that reveal the races of the children who each donated a page* *the stitching is ...

want moar.

He rode hard over the bridge and quickly left the road, angling off to the side. He was grateful that for all its shortcomings, his corpse no longer had a beating heart that would be deafening him and setting his limbs a-tremble with the fear he struggled, and failed, to master. He was half-way to L...

*thousands of words* A memory. A figure, huddled, hulking, cowering, towering. A tall, well-muscled man, a dashing figure in flowing robes, tears and snot streaming down his handsome face. Crouched in a corner he peers through the glowing portal and watches as the brave magisters are cut down draine...

*who/what* I must say that I was very surprised. I thought that acting required some form of empathy, emotion. Apparently not. A flawless performance, there are tear stains on my robe. The satisfaction of knowing that the fool was suffering within must be balance with the certainty that she will dev...

*thousands of words* Scattered corpses, heavily armoured, crushed and crumpled. Slumped figure, twisting and pulling on withered hands, scowling face, eyes rapidly darting back and forth, seeking escape. *who/what* That went well. Only half of them died. Curse this weakened flesh. I wear it like a c...

Not full time yet. Need moar postings! Abric said something about the end o' the month. So I guess after the camping trip and we have settled back down. July 1st. Happy Canada Day.