Musings from a slightly sagacious sideline bloomer with a love of words and whimsy…
The tavern was a cacophonous symphony of drunken shouting and revelry. The noise ravaged any semblance of quiet that may have settled in the street its doors opened to; once inside, it threatened to deafen the patrons. Any sober man would wonder how the good spirit could exist when it was near impossible to hear … Continue reading Roasted
The wolf knelt on his haunches to drink from the lake, disturbing the peace with the thirsty plunge of his muzzle. The sharp intake of air and splash of water all but drowned the tranquil noises of the night as he forced torrents down his arid throat. Strange that the taste of blood never quenches … Continue reading Tranquil
Another night had come, but with it, it brought the first semblance of peace that Tystnad had known in some time. Overlooking the roof of the world, he sat on the cliff ledge with his feet dangling down. Cradled in the clouds, hung the swollen moon; bursting with the crisp wintery light that suffused the … Continue reading Ripe
Tystnad... The name was an echo on Halvadere's memory. And with it, the image of the mage never left him as he had departed. Reluctantly. If not for the pressing threat that was approaching the surrounding farmsteads and villages winding its way to the capital city, then the dragon may not have been so hasty … Continue reading Catch
Tystnad knew only the nightmare, until his dream became a fading farrago of sky and fire, of crimson and blue - that made him open his eyes to the dark... At least, until his eyes adjusted. And then his vision was filled with the blotted grey of a cave mouth, with its walls curving outward … Continue reading Injured
Ways of the Wallflower 