Bramble Falls where i need to be

<blockquote><span style='font-size:7pt;line-height:100%'><ul>okay, RIGHT ACCOUNT THIS TIME. gosh D:</li></ul></span>
She had always been a damsel in distress, hadn't she?

Ozera had reached an impasse. The log that loomed in her path had such a girth that she could never have dreamed to scale it —even without a gimp leg. <i>I need to get to.... I need to get to...</i> But where she needed to be, she couldn't have really said. She could feel it in her aged, cracked bones, for that's all she really was —just a bag of bones. Unable to shake this feeling that she was forgetting something, that she was letting someone down, Ozera merely stood and stared at the roadblock that straddled her intended path. If the old woman had been less preoccupied, perhaps she would have considered going around it or going somewhere else, but alas she was stuck inside of a phonological loop in her mind: <i>He's waiting for me. I need to get there..</i> "<b>You don't understand,</b>" she told the log, her tone taut with inarticulate desperation, "<b>I... I need... he... I... you're in the way.</b>" She didn't know why, but she desperately needed to get over this log. If she left this path then she was lost. Her feet would know where she was going... if only she could get over this goddamn <i>log</i>.

Somewhere in the darkness of her skull she had hidden all her memories —she had hidden herself. A younger, saner, more vibrant Ozera crouched and cowered somewhere in that darkness, and she knew what she was looking for. That wretched creature was looking for the falls, looking for a boy she had once known, a knight in shining armor she had promised to take swimming, <i>promised</i> to grant three wishes. And even if everything else —her memories, her wits— had deserted her, the promises still remained. But the Ozera that stared stupidly, pleading with the log, didn't know anything about promises —only logs that stood in the way and an undying need to be somewhere that wasn't where she was. "<b><i>Please.</b></i>"

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(This post was last modified: Apr 29, 2012, 04:07 PM by Ozera.)

Why do they think I never change, they're the ones that stay the same.

What a week. He was quite ready for summer. Surely something should be going right by then? Least there wouldn't be all these burning scents tugging at his nose, and he could be back to his happy self. His black nostrils flared when he snorted at how unlikely that would be, and how far away summer was. If he humbly thought about things they could be much worse. Swift River was growing, and he actually did not mind the couple of recruits. Actually, he liked Ice and Naira and would claim them as the Tainn family without a second thought. They were steadfast, loyal, and honest wolves. Each one no doubt could bring a smile to his face. He was aware how much he could learn from them, and he dimly wondered where they might be. He did not give too great of effort to look. No one was near the den these days, and he was certain Ice was avoiding any and all water. While Naira might be trying to find a place for her medical supplies. Wanting to disturb neither he settled on venturing out on his own. With the River flooding who knew what else was in disarray.

Funny enough his paws lead him to Bramble Falls where they seemed to know by heart. If he were ever blind he could probably find it without too much trouble. Though the thought of being blind made him think twice. He would have a hard time crossing the creek, and he was certain he'd stumble into the small niches of land, or walk straight into a tree. No, it was better he was not blind.

The further he ambled onward he was sure he could make out the faint sounds of what sounded like someone talking. He eyed the path of the falls, and small creek. It had not done anything miserable like the creek, or for now it was still. What was odd was this huge log surrounded by nasty brush, and taller trees. Had the creek washed it there by chance? Or had a fierce storm broken a great timber? With a quizzical brow he went to inspect where it had come from. It was too new, and bothered him seeing it there. His nostrils to work he inspected the side he was on, snorting away loudly in search of his clues. He rose up on his hing legs, pressing his front paws to it's wet rings. It was bigger than he was. That's when he thought he heard please. In reflex he spooked away from the log, and let out a questioning half surprised woof.

are you with me through it all?

<blockquote><ul><span style='font-size:7pt;line-height:100%'>i am so used to writing for Kiche that of course I accidentally turn Ozera into a log-worshipper.</li></ul></span>
Her world began to shrink at an alarming rate, and before long her world was just a log, a barrier, a wall. It was something horrible that stood in the way of everything she had ever wanted and needed. The world was just a tract of land that she began to pace up and down, whining as she worried the ground between the edges of the universe. "<b>I need... I need...</b>" But she could never finish her sentence, because she could never grab ahold of that elusive idea that she chased up and down the log. Ozera was unable to worry at her inability to express herself, however, because all she could worry about was the damn log in her path. Anxiety made her memory worse, though, and eventually she lost the ability to speak any words at all, and was reduced to a crying, sniveling bag of wretched, old bones.

A soft bark disturbed the world, rippling through the muted sound waves. They reached, but only barely. Her ears, pressed so flat, lifted curiously at this sound that came from beyond the vale, beyond the log. But that made no sense. Without a doubt, the sound was coming <i>from the log,</i> this log that had become her world, her sun and stars, her <i>god</i>. Surely her log-god could speak to her. Some words came back to her, just enough to beg deliverance. The crone's prayer was simple, strained: "<b>Oh please, let me go. Let me pass. I need...</b>"
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<i>xD</i>

Why do they think I never change, they're the ones that stay the same.

A narrowed gaze he continued staring down the tree, not certain what had just transpired. Far as he knew little creatures did not exactly talk, and neither did trees last he had checked. He was a believer in the unknown to an extent. This log was dead. There had to be some rules nature was bound by. Then did the dead speak? His long black hair started to raise along his spine, cold chills poking each skin cell. Now was a great time to freak himself out over ghosts, and phantoms. Then he was suddenly chillded for another reason. "Oh please, let me go. Let me pass. I need..." That voice, there it was again. He was nothing like he may have heard before there was not a doubt in his mind whose voice it was. Ozera. Could it really be? Then he began recalling his theory of the dead talking, and wasn't sure if he found the notion of Ozera on the other side of the veil speaking to him a good or bad thing. His ears were cupped forward, straining while his mind registered what had been said. Let me pass.

His body had suddenly become stiff almost paralyzed under his breath he told himself to get a grip. If Ozera was here trying to talk to him it had to be important. Best he could he tried to raise up on his hind legs to peer over the log, but he was not tall enough. This log was huge He could barely hover his nose over the top. He scrambled, and scraped his paws trying to climb it's smooth surface. He could not. "OZERA!" He yelled with all the strength he could muster. "OZERA, I'M HERE!" He stammered, and found his tail, and hear beat quickening. Ozera was not a ghost she was alive, he could smell her...ALIVE! He wanted to sing to the moon, and shout for joy. "Triell to the rescue!" He barked with a new found pep, and after a half crazed chuckle choked back sob, he began digging under the obstruction as fast as he could move dirt. She would not die behind a stupid log!

(This post was last modified: Mar 28, 2012, 07:03 PM by Triell.)

are you with me through it all?

<blockquote><ul><span style='font-size:7pt;line-height:100%'>I am a bad person. :c ozera deserves better than this.</span></li></ul>Ozera? The name sounded familiar. <i>I used to know an Ozera... right?</i> She asked herself questions she could no longer answer. Why would the log be shouting to this <i>Ozera</i>? Why wouldn't it be shouting to <i>her</i>? She was the one who begged for deliverance, after all. A frown weighed heavy on the corners of her lips as she puzzled over this Ozera, why someone was here for <i>Ozera</i> but not for her. No one had ever been there for her —not that she could remember, anyway. But... Perhaps... if this voice couldn't see her, had mistaken her this Ozera, there was something there to work with. He needn't know that he was mistaken until after she was saved, and by then it wouldn't matter. In an attempt to make the best of a bad situation, she cried out in response, "<b>Oh thank God you're here!</b>" Whoever it was, they would rescue. It was only a matter of waiting now.

But she waited...and nothing happened.

After a time, she began to wonder if perhaps something had gone wrong. Had her savior realized that she was not this Ozera after all and deserted her? Worry flooded her voice as she began to take up that mournful keening again. Time was running out. <i>I need to be there... I should be there by now...</i> Once more, the crone took up her pacing again. She ran her circuit once, twice... but on the third time, just as she was passing a notch near the middle of the log she noticed that the ground was moving, the dirt falling away as if there was some gigantic mole tunneling beneath the log. Mouth ajar, her pacing forgotten, she trotted over to stand at the mound of quivering earth.
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<3 i am glad your playing her out till her death. I was thinking maybe she'll have to act like freaked out about Triell and runaway so he won't pursue her?

Why do they think I never change, they're the ones that stay the same.

The Tainn would not understand, nor worry there was no recognition of who he was. He had worked to do, and lots of it. His wide, black paws began cupping against the dirt, each one taking turn to pull piles of it behind it. He had been cursing the rain lately, but today it made this situation much easier. For Triell there was no such thing as failure. "It's alright!" He would manage to call back. Somehow he imaged to a point she had to be freaking out. Though in his mind he had yet to realize why she was more fearful, then he thought she would be. It didn't matter, as his black paws became dark brown. At last light filtered through his hole, showing the other side.

"Ah ha," he said, most happily taking a momentary break to catch his heavy breaths. He soon kept at the dark dirt, bit by bit, until it was large enough for himself to crawl under the log. Which was to say a lot because he was no boy any more.

He wiggled, pulled, and at last made his way to Ozera. The Tainn had the biggest smile on his face, though his eyes reflected something that might have been sorrow. "Ozera!" He beamed, trying to pull himself out of the hole to a stand. She did not seem real.

are you with me through it all?

<blockquote><ul><span style='font-size:7pt;line-height:100%'>derp derp derp. i hate ozera</span></li></ul>
Out popped the head of a massive earth-creature.

"<b>Oh jesus!</b>" she shouted, jumping back several paces, quite alarmed as the beast hauled himself out of the ground. It took her a moment to recognize the wolven features underneath the mask of dirt and mud, although that was in of itself only a small comfort. Why was he <i>smiling</i> at her like that? Alright, Ozera had never minded a friendly face... but this set of happy teeth seemed joyous, hopeful... Did she know this man? The old woman felt as if there was something being expected of her, but as to what it was, she had no idea. More than a little dumbfounded, the disheveled female, her mouth still hanging open, started stupidly at the man who came towards her, calling out a peculiar collection of syllables that she... she thought sounded familiar. <i>Ozera?</i> Wasn't that what... that... that... that other wolf had...He had said that... that word too, hadn't he? Grappling with her elusive memory, the crone could only wrest away the shredded details that belonged to some larger, coherent whole that lingered on the outskirts of her mind. <i>Ozera</i>. Two could play at this game.

Mirroring the strange behavior of this muddy man, Ozera bounded forward with equal joy, "<b>Jonathan! Oh Jonathan, it's so good to see you!</b>" Reaching forward, she eagerly swiped her tongue across his grimy muzzle, "<b>What a mess you've made of yourself.</b>" But even this game she played could not distract her from the longings that still tugged at her heart. While her smile seemed genuine, her eyes betrayed her distracted mind as they darted around. Suddenly they stopped, lingering on the hole...
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If I go crazy then will you still call me superman?

She was startled, but his joyful expression did not change. She was alive! More then what he'd ever hoped for, and she probably had not expected to see him. The Tainn would remain blissfully oblivious for some seconds why he watched the wheels turn in her head. There was no instant happiness returned, and it was then he might began to wonder what was wrong. This was Ozera by her scent, sigh, and voice. Was there something different about her eyes. He squinted, trying to see if she might be blind or her vision impaired. It was a possibility. Some how he always thought her eyes were brighter. Something at last must have dawned on her.

It was Triell's turn to be distraught. Jonathan? Surely this was not part of a game, she would not be so cruel. What could he do but let her greet him, standing dumbfounded by this. He did that too, just feeling like she'd been taken all over again despite how she managed to give him an affectionate lick. It would be her comment about mess that would have him move. He vigorously shook his dark coat, sending harmless dirt clods through the air. He even went far enough to tip his nose down, scraping it with his forelimb. "I have..." he quietly spoke, still bemused, and staring at her trying to make ends of it all. She appeared lost in space..well the hole he'd left beneath the log. "Um, why...why do you think I'm Jonathan?" He quietly asked, trying to soften his stunned dark mask. "Don't you remember me.....how..I saved you from the falls, and you offered me wishes?"

are you with me through it all?