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Emberwood red woe - Printable Version

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red woe - Lestan - September 02, 2024

she is wakening.
golden wings and a terrible mouth of fire.
she is coming
he grabbed, clutched for it; he dug in the leaf-litter; he 
it was gone
gone
gone.
the amulet.
the portion of his soul, going down a witch's throat; he drew a ragged circle with thin stick around himself and huddled in it, whispering the glen-tongue which came only at such times as these, a tormented man dipping toward madness once more.



RE: red woe - Sulukinak - September 02, 2024

With her travels amounting to little so far, Sulukinak was growing restless.

She found her way to the cliffside again - a different one, one which afforded a vision of the maplewood from afar. Maybe she hoped to see the hunters again.

Larch and aspen stood tall and pale, transitioning through shades of sunlight and fire. Sulukinak nosed through a pile, having detected curious scents, but gave it up soon enough.

Onward she would go; but if this proved a dead-end, she would seek her fortune south.


RE: red woe - Lestan - September 06, 2024

shadows, shadows.
they ate each other and birthed a longer shape of cold darkness.
lestan only heard the crying of his amulet, snapping head in the cardinal directions as he lamented and wailed in those old, old words.
a monster scraping in the dark mud of lore; the mayfair slowly collapsing in on himself.



RE: red woe - Sulukinak - September 08, 2024

sensing movement in the foliage, sulukinak lunged. the leaves crunched and fluttered around her, and she became like a spear thrusting in to the body of the forest; but when she finished, only debris fell away from her. there was the rank scent of vermin as well as something like food, and yet nothing to show for it.

flustered, she gives up.

at first she high-steps through the green, and stops when she comes across a bramble patch; some has been picked clean and as she goes to investigate, freezes. a bundle of brown fur lays in a heap not too far from the patch.

she can make out legs, a torso — a head tucked under, a body folded up like a spider after being swatted. the shadow creeps back a half-step and breathes deep, searching for illness, or life — and can only tell this is a man, and not one she knows.


RE: red woe - Lestan - September 09, 2024

"go away!"
he was frenzied; his mouth was smeared with dirt; his pelt was ragged;
his eyes rolled wildly;
his claws cut and cut in the earth; "away! away! the golden bird comes! the doe of fire comes, to cleanse, to wash, to wash; she's stolen it; stolen it!"