silhouettes

Clear — Current Temperature: 21° F/-6° C. Dusk.

it's hard letting go i'm finally at peace but it feels wrong slow I'm getting up my hands and feet are weaker than before and you are folded on the bed where I rest my head there's nothing I can see, darkness becomes me but I'm already there Static. All he felt was static. The cold finally set into his bones, but it wasn't stimulating enough to bring him back from the place he had been for the last few hours─far away. In his mind, there was no snow; there was no sun and no wind, there was no one. It was quiet and dull there, but it didn't help him think. On the contrary, he couldn't think of much of anything. Maybe that was why he'd stayed so long. The sharp angle of his jaw was set into place, his teeth clenched together, grinding. The sound of it echoed in his head, which throbbed in slow waves. Inside his chest it was like someone had filled him up with stone and his body felt heavy, but not too heavy to carry. He liked the way it made him strain. Where had it all gone wrong? His plan for life had been pristine─first he would lay his eyes upon his father's creek, then he would experience and conquer the mysteries of the world, and in the end he would look down upon the kingdom of his childhood from high above, a king. But day by day the future he had once envisioned had been stripped from him, like skin peeled from his back, and now he couldn't even recognize it, let alone himself. The winter shouldn't have been so long and the time shouldn't have been lost to him, but he'd managed to lose hold of it and of...well, everything. His blood family. Nios. Copper Rock Creek. A shade of dignity. With spring slowly lifting winter's grip from the land and a fresh scar on his heart, Mirren existed like a ghost in the shadows and secrets of Hidden Tree for hours until the sun began to set. It was a force like gravity that had drawn him to the frosted, petrified grove of his predecessors, where his bright, golden eyes searched for a sign. For something. For anything that would give him direction because he didn't know which way was up. This lost way was not the path he would have chosen, but it was the one he was on, and it was one that he would have to learn to navigate. He had been forced down to his knees by the choices he'd made and circumstances, and it was with his face in the dirt that he learned a great lesson: to love is to destroy. He needed to forget. Lifting his muzzle to the night sky, the once-boy's eerie and empty song echoed through the forest where he would scatter his skeletons.

(This post was last modified: Apr 01, 2014, 03:15 AM by Mirren.)