Post by Bila on Aug 7, 2006 13:10:39 GMT -5
In the sky of the middle world angry thunderheads peered into the mountains. They billowed threateningly; the color of baby lambs wool. On Earth of the middle world the ominous clouds cast their shadow where the sunlight couldn’t touch. Summer still flourished despite the opposing weather; in the mountains of the middle world it was not so warm. The trees coated the granite crags in a forest of pines that jutted resolutely towards the heavens. There on the highest reaches of the most intimidating peek there was snow that the rays could not melt into stray rivers to fill the crystalline lakes nestled in their beaches. In the middle world was a pack of wolves who breathed air that was like no other and who hunted as nomads across the mountains brow. They carried on the shoulders of their instincts earth wisdom and in their hearts they held pack unity and family bonds. A figurative earthquake had left a fault between them, but true to their nature they carried on: divided they would fall while united they would stand.
List pack the creatures had dubbed it; and so they traveled through life unaware of the true power buried deep into the unfeeling stone. For unknowingly to them there was a gateway planted in their mountains and those true to the soul of List would share the bittersweet blessing of those gone away before. Under the sky of the middle world on Earth of the middle world where the wolves dwelled on the mountains of the middle world was a gateway that unfurled into a path that led to the other world where the spirits resided. It was the Crimson Pool. A mere pond of stagnant water that bore reeds and algae; and was the creation of snow melt. There was something special about it though, and that at least had been acknowledged by the Listern wolves; red lilies seemed to bloom whenever a pack mate died and not even the frost of fall and the blizzards of winter could kill their roots frozen beneath the ice. They did not know, however, that there was much more to it than that.
A love stronger than mortal passion had been forged between the lupines and there home List; so as long as List stood for everything they had recognized it as they would live on, bound to the earth, not really dead. Those separated from their bodies were still connected to life through their spirits for the red lilies contained them and held them fast. More than dead, different than alive; they still haunted the forest of their hearts in both the middle world and the otherworld.
The mountains of the spirit world reared towards the iron gray sky; their crags punctuating the blackened clouds. Ridges speared upwards like the blade of a knife and their glorious breadth bordered the horizon for as far as any eye, demon or otherwise, could see. It was a mountain range that even dwarfed the heart of the middle world’s Sierra Mountains and Carpathian Rage, for there on it’s great brow were what appeared to be the marionettes of the mountains. There amongst it’s great redwoods and wild falls and rivers was a Crimson Pool with eight lilies for a crown. This is where the wolves of List were bound and though they stalked all reaches of the infinite other world they still appeared on those foreboding slopes.
On a great granite boulder lost somewhere in the depths of those peeks something was stirring. Surrounding the area were trees that spread off in every direction; their pine needle branches swaying in a growing wind. Everything was still with expectation; something was coming to the forest born on ashen wings.
First of all the debris filled dirt began to stir and it was not because of the whipping breeze. Swirls of dust began to lift from the ground and spiral away in a perfect circle. Higher and higher it rose until the dust devils were leaping towards the hundred foot treetops; the wind began to howl as if it were being sucked into the heart of the circle. Than suddenly; it stopped. Particles of dirt began to fall back to ground as the dust thick in the air subsided. Sitting on the ground in the middle of it all was a girl; her legs crossed.
Blond hair was tied back and away from her shrewd features where keen hazel eyes peered out. She wasn’t pretty with soccer shorts and a gray t-shirt with stains all down the front and she was very out of place in the demon filled forest. She blinked a few times than got to feet and stepped outside of a curved line that had formed in the ground where the dust had been. She began to walk and as she did she changed.
She was taking deep breaths of the mountain air and looked as if she were feeling the trees and rocks around her. A light flickered in her eyes and she began to run. Faster and faster she tore along head thrown back in fierce joy. Stooped she became as fur sprung along her body and her clothes began to melt in her skin. Her face elongated, her ears opened and traveled up her crown even as they started to point. Sneakered feet became narrow and her heal was lost to a thin leg as nails inched their way from flesh. Where a rump began to round out a tail grew in fast forward.
It was a wolf now sprinting as silent as a shadow beneath the storm tossed sky. She was barely past pup hood and her pelt was disarray of light colors. Her ruff was a pale brown and her back was a mingle of white and silver gray. The lower half of her ivory body stretched to her muzzle where a splash of brown rested below oculars. Lanky and too thin with still some growing to do; she flew onward with the ground fleeing beneath her slender paws. Just a youth still filled with half woven schemes; yet a deceased wolf of List.
The smell of dry conifers and the rough scenery surrounding Bila had triggered the spirits last form of life; she was once more where she belonged. She had always been most true to herself when she was just out of childhood; than she had been her most strongest. In life she had passed that stage, but here in the otherworld that was who she was. She still had both her eyes and now they flickered like the flames of fire in her sockets.
Bila came to a stop gazing into a pool with red flowers. There she looked over at each petal, water dripping down and falling into the water like tears. Five lilies disturbed by the water; representing those still in the middle world. She couldn’t feel sad, they were still alive. But a strange feeling had come over her; one of tender detachment. They would all meet again one day to roam for as long as eternity was in the otherworld. Bila knew that and she was in no desire to speed up the time. So instead she gazed up at the sky. She had always loved the thunderstorms in the middle of the day; it had made a bubble of elation expand in her gut.
How it all cried out to her, telling her that she loved List. How she loved her remaining sister Fiory. They were so different; the black femme was of the air and of beginnings and of breath and psychic dreams. The gangling, tri colored femme was of fire and of reaping and of energy and healing. Two different sisters, one conscious of others and the world around her one passionate for all those she lived for. Both parted by death, both stuck in different worlds. So much had been left unsaid, and as Bila watched the goings of List she felt she ought to speak with Fiory because she could since she was not yet dead.
The wolf closed her eyes and began to feel for the empire she was still connected to and she fell upon Fiory easily; the last of a dieing kind. She was sleeping; it would be easy to bring her hear. Bila though up her head and called to her living sister, summoning her to the world of the spirits where she would arrive.
List pack the creatures had dubbed it; and so they traveled through life unaware of the true power buried deep into the unfeeling stone. For unknowingly to them there was a gateway planted in their mountains and those true to the soul of List would share the bittersweet blessing of those gone away before. Under the sky of the middle world on Earth of the middle world where the wolves dwelled on the mountains of the middle world was a gateway that unfurled into a path that led to the other world where the spirits resided. It was the Crimson Pool. A mere pond of stagnant water that bore reeds and algae; and was the creation of snow melt. There was something special about it though, and that at least had been acknowledged by the Listern wolves; red lilies seemed to bloom whenever a pack mate died and not even the frost of fall and the blizzards of winter could kill their roots frozen beneath the ice. They did not know, however, that there was much more to it than that.
A love stronger than mortal passion had been forged between the lupines and there home List; so as long as List stood for everything they had recognized it as they would live on, bound to the earth, not really dead. Those separated from their bodies were still connected to life through their spirits for the red lilies contained them and held them fast. More than dead, different than alive; they still haunted the forest of their hearts in both the middle world and the otherworld.
+ + +
The mountains of the spirit world reared towards the iron gray sky; their crags punctuating the blackened clouds. Ridges speared upwards like the blade of a knife and their glorious breadth bordered the horizon for as far as any eye, demon or otherwise, could see. It was a mountain range that even dwarfed the heart of the middle world’s Sierra Mountains and Carpathian Rage, for there on it’s great brow were what appeared to be the marionettes of the mountains. There amongst it’s great redwoods and wild falls and rivers was a Crimson Pool with eight lilies for a crown. This is where the wolves of List were bound and though they stalked all reaches of the infinite other world they still appeared on those foreboding slopes.
On a great granite boulder lost somewhere in the depths of those peeks something was stirring. Surrounding the area were trees that spread off in every direction; their pine needle branches swaying in a growing wind. Everything was still with expectation; something was coming to the forest born on ashen wings.
First of all the debris filled dirt began to stir and it was not because of the whipping breeze. Swirls of dust began to lift from the ground and spiral away in a perfect circle. Higher and higher it rose until the dust devils were leaping towards the hundred foot treetops; the wind began to howl as if it were being sucked into the heart of the circle. Than suddenly; it stopped. Particles of dirt began to fall back to ground as the dust thick in the air subsided. Sitting on the ground in the middle of it all was a girl; her legs crossed.
Blond hair was tied back and away from her shrewd features where keen hazel eyes peered out. She wasn’t pretty with soccer shorts and a gray t-shirt with stains all down the front and she was very out of place in the demon filled forest. She blinked a few times than got to feet and stepped outside of a curved line that had formed in the ground where the dust had been. She began to walk and as she did she changed.
She was taking deep breaths of the mountain air and looked as if she were feeling the trees and rocks around her. A light flickered in her eyes and she began to run. Faster and faster she tore along head thrown back in fierce joy. Stooped she became as fur sprung along her body and her clothes began to melt in her skin. Her face elongated, her ears opened and traveled up her crown even as they started to point. Sneakered feet became narrow and her heal was lost to a thin leg as nails inched their way from flesh. Where a rump began to round out a tail grew in fast forward.
It was a wolf now sprinting as silent as a shadow beneath the storm tossed sky. She was barely past pup hood and her pelt was disarray of light colors. Her ruff was a pale brown and her back was a mingle of white and silver gray. The lower half of her ivory body stretched to her muzzle where a splash of brown rested below oculars. Lanky and too thin with still some growing to do; she flew onward with the ground fleeing beneath her slender paws. Just a youth still filled with half woven schemes; yet a deceased wolf of List.
The smell of dry conifers and the rough scenery surrounding Bila had triggered the spirits last form of life; she was once more where she belonged. She had always been most true to herself when she was just out of childhood; than she had been her most strongest. In life she had passed that stage, but here in the otherworld that was who she was. She still had both her eyes and now they flickered like the flames of fire in her sockets.
Bila came to a stop gazing into a pool with red flowers. There she looked over at each petal, water dripping down and falling into the water like tears. Five lilies disturbed by the water; representing those still in the middle world. She couldn’t feel sad, they were still alive. But a strange feeling had come over her; one of tender detachment. They would all meet again one day to roam for as long as eternity was in the otherworld. Bila knew that and she was in no desire to speed up the time. So instead she gazed up at the sky. She had always loved the thunderstorms in the middle of the day; it had made a bubble of elation expand in her gut.
How it all cried out to her, telling her that she loved List. How she loved her remaining sister Fiory. They were so different; the black femme was of the air and of beginnings and of breath and psychic dreams. The gangling, tri colored femme was of fire and of reaping and of energy and healing. Two different sisters, one conscious of others and the world around her one passionate for all those she lived for. Both parted by death, both stuck in different worlds. So much had been left unsaid, and as Bila watched the goings of List she felt she ought to speak with Fiory because she could since she was not yet dead.
The wolf closed her eyes and began to feel for the empire she was still connected to and she fell upon Fiory easily; the last of a dieing kind. She was sleeping; it would be easy to bring her hear. Bila though up her head and called to her living sister, summoning her to the world of the spirits where she would arrive.
hehehe YAY BILA! 