[table width=85%][tr][td]
Komodo preferred to think of himself something of a man of darkness. Not darkness of cognition and mentality, mind you, but darkness of milieu. He was particularly drawn to forests, with their shaded canopies and abundant biodiversity, loved the variety of it all. The endless rhythm of death and life nurtured the ground and brought forth treasures animate as well as inanimate; a veritable trove of all the things he loved. Despite this visceral affinity he was still a practical man, capable of striking a fine balance — which was why, after several days, the brute departed from the golden plains grasses to sitting directly to the east to seek harborage amongst the dank obscurity found between the trees.
The doctōre did not seek to return to any one spot, but felt the pull of his paws towards someone knew. The curious energy was omnipresent and was now something Komodo considered a part of his character; he simply was not a man meant to be tied down in any one place. Instead, his body and mind had become strengthened from the challenge of solitude and almost constant travel — Komodo was pleased with the existence he lived and needed nothing more from it.
His nose foretold the humidity of a nearby forest; the scent of moisture trapped between canopy and earth drew him forth — but as he rounded a rocky rise and was guided northwest by the defiant barrier of a ridge, Komodo came upon a scene most unexpected. Here lay not an abundant forest but a soused morass! Strong, dense trees were scattered as if they were toothpicks, evident of a past storm [from which the land had yet to recover]. The plant matter as plentiful but decayed amongst the wetness. Surely, many years from now, this land would prove fertile and the forest would rise again; but he would never be alive to glimpse such a unhurried process.The truth of it set the pelt across his broad shoulders aquiver and Gramercy bent his head close to the earth and nosed the sodden soil in the shadows of a felled tree. [/td][/tr]
[/table]The doctōre did not seek to return to any one spot, but felt the pull of his paws towards someone knew. The curious energy was omnipresent and was now something Komodo considered a part of his character; he simply was not a man meant to be tied down in any one place. Instead, his body and mind had become strengthened from the challenge of solitude and almost constant travel — Komodo was pleased with the existence he lived and needed nothing more from it.
His nose foretold the humidity of a nearby forest; the scent of moisture trapped between canopy and earth drew him forth — but as he rounded a rocky rise and was guided northwest by the defiant barrier of a ridge, Komodo came upon a scene most unexpected. Here lay not an abundant forest but a soused morass! Strong, dense trees were scattered as if they were toothpicks, evident of a past storm [from which the land had yet to recover]. The plant matter as plentiful but decayed amongst the wetness. Surely, many years from now, this land would prove fertile and the forest would rise again; but he would never be alive to glimpse such a unhurried process.The truth of it set the pelt across his broad shoulders aquiver and Gramercy bent his head close to the earth and nosed the sodden soil in the shadows of a felled tree. [/td][/tr]
night clubs & night stalkers
fast women, fast talkers
loose lips, loose limbs
the lovely loveless
fast women, fast talkers
loose lips, loose limbs
the lovely loveless
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Messages In This Thread
painting greys - by Komodo - April 04, 2017, 09:52 AM
RE: painting greys - by Ynes - April 07, 2017, 10:15 AM
RE: painting greys - by Komodo - April 08, 2017, 11:52 PM
RE: painting greys - by Ynes - April 09, 2017, 02:45 PM
RE: painting greys - by Komodo - April 10, 2017, 10:49 PM
RE: painting greys - by Ynes - April 13, 2017, 09:48 PM
RE: painting greys - by Komodo - April 19, 2017, 11:52 AM
RE: painting greys - by Ynes - April 19, 2017, 10:22 PM
RE: painting greys - by Komodo - April 27, 2017, 12:23 PM