Post by Makes-No-Sense on Mar 15, 2012 2:26:50 GMT -8
"You are not the one that hunts, half breed. Shadowed by hunters is your curse. Never prowling yet always alone, are you not?" The voice wasn't mocking. Mocking could be dismissed; maybe even ignored. No, this was the same taunting the sword gave to the horse hair over a king's head.
"Don't start this, I need to focus right now." The divided voice moved the thoughts back to the present, back to the world on the other side of the curtain.
"You know what man, fuck you too!" The words rolled off his tongue like the saddest eulogy ever spoken.
In that instance the decision was made clear and cemented. The creature broke into thousands of spiders and fled. Like a thousand reasons to be angry the curtain held it in. Like a thousand chances to be redeemed now all lay beyond chance and pleading.
"Well now, predator, how will you handle this? Is this not how you expected it to be? That title before name makes any difference? Ahhhh, you must be thinking like the prey again. Thinking that any step under this attachment gives you weight, gives you gravity. Or are you just borrowing someone else's again?" Now the voice was cruelly twisting itself inward.
"Well go after him. Kill him. What sort of hunter lets the query go to ground? Should we catch and release ALL of them who cross you? Second chances, third chances, fourth chances, just keep counting little prey, at some point your claws will break. At some point you will run out of teeth, and without teeth..." It gave no quarter as the voice continued to quarrel without opposition.
"...all you have is bark."
All motion ceased. Void's were calmer, ring side seats less tense, even the trees knew not to rustle at this instant. Gradually fur grew, the slouch more pronounced as the senses sharpened. The colors blurred into grey and the brittle hair clutched the dew drenched earth.
Silence held within itself a moment of false modesty to the forest, a feigned attempt to halt what the next event must be to occur. The wind shifted bringing the noise of the hiding woods out for that brief second. The curtain was pulled back and whatever the voice was, it gave no consult of words this time. Instead it shared a primal understanding. One had to submit to the other; one had to let go.
The Next Sunrise
Trees lay broken, smashed, and splintered. A relief cut through the flora amid a shattered meadow. There were signs of what had transpired, but he didn't need to see.
The trek back was tedious, and contempt for every inch he felt without that barrier. Teeth gnarled together briefly, long enough for that understanding to be moved from fleeting to finality.
"Pity, the tree's have no throats."
"
"You know what man, fuck you too!" The words rolled off his tongue like the saddest eulogy ever spoken.
In that instance the decision was made clear and cemented. The creature broke into thousands of spiders and fled. Like a thousand reasons to be angry the curtain held it in. Like a thousand chances to be redeemed now all lay beyond chance and pleading.
"Well now, predator, how will you handle this? Is this not how you expected it to be? That title before name makes any difference? Ahhhh, you must be thinking like the prey again. Thinking that any step under this attachment gives you weight, gives you gravity. Or are you just borrowing someone else's again?" Now the voice was cruelly twisting itself inward.
"Well go after him. Kill him. What sort of hunter lets the query go to ground? Should we catch and release ALL of them who cross you? Second chances, third chances, fourth chances, just keep counting little prey, at some point your claws will break. At some point you will run out of teeth, and without teeth..." It gave no quarter as the voice continued to quarrel without opposition.
"...all you have is bark."
All motion ceased. Void's were calmer, ring side seats less tense, even the trees knew not to rustle at this instant. Gradually fur grew, the slouch more pronounced as the senses sharpened. The colors blurred into grey and the brittle hair clutched the dew drenched earth.
Silence held within itself a moment of false modesty to the forest, a feigned attempt to halt what the next event must be to occur. The wind shifted bringing the noise of the hiding woods out for that brief second. The curtain was pulled back and whatever the voice was, it gave no consult of words this time. Instead it shared a primal understanding. One had to submit to the other; one had to let go.
The Next Sunrise
Trees lay broken, smashed, and splintered. A relief cut through the flora amid a shattered meadow. There were signs of what had transpired, but he didn't need to see.
The trek back was tedious, and contempt for every inch he felt without that barrier. Teeth gnarled together briefly, long enough for that understanding to be moved from fleeting to finality.
"Pity, the tree's have no throats."