Protecting The Entrepreneur
Mar 3, 2010 20:29:22 GMT -7
Post by ~Ji-Ji~ on Mar 3, 2010 20:29:22 GMT -7
He would awaken the next morning dazed, as was the usual routine that he found himself bothered by, his vision blurred as his eyes slowly stuttered open to be met with a less than brilliant sight to greet him; a blurred mess of green, blue, and brown, several of which he identified without trying--the greenery around him, the blue of the water, the brown of the earth below him. Wait, no, what was this? It seemed the ground that he was once laying upon had gained a new texture, or was at least forming a new one--indeed, it was a thicker substance, though easily movable in the palm of one's hand, and, while it retained some substance, it seemed to be developing a watery form... What was the word to describe the feeling of it?
'Mud' the artisan would think. Yes, had a nice ring to it.
It had then occurred to him that the reason for this sudden change in the earth's make-up was because of the precipitation that seemed to be falling both around and on him, which proved to be the reason, furthermore, that he had awoken to a rather bleak looking morning rather than the pleasant ones which he so enjoyed. He really liked the rain, actually, it was a beautiful thing of nature that was beyond any sculptures grasp (an unfortunate thing, too), a commodity among other imitate-able beauties; it was the mud, rather, that usually bothered him, should it rain outside, and, if it were to rain in a city, it would be several millions (or some other exaggerated number) times worse, given that waste material would usually mix in with the water to form an oder that was revolting.
The fire that they had lit had long since withered away, no doubt unable to stay lit with the rain pouring against it so harshly; all the signs pointed to what they should have done hours ago.
[/right]'Mud' the artisan would think. Yes, had a nice ring to it.
It had then occurred to him that the reason for this sudden change in the earth's make-up was because of the precipitation that seemed to be falling both around and on him, which proved to be the reason, furthermore, that he had awoken to a rather bleak looking morning rather than the pleasant ones which he so enjoyed. He really liked the rain, actually, it was a beautiful thing of nature that was beyond any sculptures grasp (an unfortunate thing, too), a commodity among other imitate-able beauties; it was the mud, rather, that usually bothered him, should it rain outside, and, if it were to rain in a city, it would be several millions (or some other exaggerated number) times worse, given that waste material would usually mix in with the water to form an oder that was revolting.
The fire that they had lit had long since withered away, no doubt unable to stay lit with the rain pouring against it so harshly; all the signs pointed to what they should have done hours ago.
'We need to get moving...'
He had little to pack, given that he traveled so lightly in the first place, and would turn his attention toward those he traveled with. Artemis was the first he would spot--she would be doing something, though it would only bewilder the artiste further if he tried to think further into the situation, so he naturally did not. He'd then look for his other teammate, Misora; she was, however, nowhere within the area, which only served to further harbor their travel. Where had she wandered?
The youth would travel but a short distance in search, as he had but one area in mind. He would arrive at the tree which Misora had utterly ruined with her strength, something that caused both fear and envy to develop in the boy's heart, an unstable concoction that would no doubt lead to trouble further down the road. Whatever the case, he looked upward, and, with a bit of surprise on his face, he'd find his ally. No doubt she would have woken from the water pelting her face, but, assuming she hadn't, he'd call to her.
[/right]The youth would travel but a short distance in search, as he had but one area in mind. He would arrive at the tree which Misora had utterly ruined with her strength, something that caused both fear and envy to develop in the boy's heart, an unstable concoction that would no doubt lead to trouble further down the road. Whatever the case, he looked upward, and, with a bit of surprise on his face, he'd find his ally. No doubt she would have woken from the water pelting her face, but, assuming she hadn't, he'd call to her.
"Oi, wake up! We're heading out!"
Upon their leaving, they would travel for several hours, the rain never letting up for even the slightest moment, making the roads grow further unpleasant with each passing step (it had been only luck that prevented the artist's fall). However, after those agonizingly miserable hours, they would arrive at the dock of a river, which they would board to be taken to the Fang Country.
'It's a lonely road we walk...'
Artemis, when you post after Misora, you shall be the one to request having this moved to Fang. Or, rather, you'll have that in your post, but I'll request it, if need be. FINALLY LEAVING