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 Posted: Sat Apr 19, 2008 11:09 pm
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Posted: Sat Apr 19, 2008 11:20 pm
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Posted: Tue Nov 25, 2008 5:16 pm
~*~reserved for Metaplot Link
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Posted: Wed Dec 24, 2008 3:12 pm
Press, pull, glide, back.
Press, pull, glide, back.
He remembered meeting her for the first time, that snowy night. The house was quiet, the fire banked, and the animals content in their nests or on their prowls. Her quiet washed over him like a soothing blanket, warm and safe. Acceptance, Things he was not used to receiving so freely.
A few stolen hours, two lives changed so dramatically. Quick efficient movement became a languid dance as he remembered.
Press, pull, glide, back.
Her hands were small and carried her wonder through them. His family loved him, he could truly accept that now, but she had completed him with that motion. She truly understood even if she did not know everything.
And he realized then, that he would do anything to make her happy.
Press, pull, glide, back.
Paintings of thoughts, talks of dreams and half-remembered things, all of it further sweetening something found those years ago, was it years now?, on that silent winter night.
He held the balance for many things, and had burdens he must carry alone.
But the journey need not be a lonely one.
Press, pull, glide, back.
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Posted: Sat Apr 04, 2009 10:38 pm
He remembered one evening shared on one of their beds. Which one wasn't entirely important.
They had booth been sitting lotus style, knees touching each other's, foreheads not quite resting together. His hands had rested on her hips, thumbs making small circles on her sides. Her hands had been at his shoulders, playing at the joint of wing and back, stroking along recently preened feathers, occasionally fingering one of the long primaries.
There had been no grand gestures, no life changing speeches.
Just the two of them, close to each other, ignoring the world.
It was one of his favorite memories.
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Posted: Sat Apr 04, 2009 10:40 pm
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Posted: Wed Sep 09, 2009 10:35 pm
They say the devil is in the making and your fate is already sealed.
That is not how I see it.
We are given a set of circumstances, our fate is in how we play the cards.
Some are forced upon us,
Others are picked up along the way,
But it is our choices that shapes the game.
And life is a game to be played with fervor.
This is not a rehearsal.
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Posted: Tue Dec 28, 2010 11:42 pm
The world is white and calm. Usually he can't tell colors and such, but Elle gave him the words, the sight, to understand if in a limited way.
He treasured this time of year. Soft and quiet with the world at peace.
It was almost as if he could feel the earth's gentle breaths puffing in and out as she lay under a thick blanket of white.
Maybe they didn't experience this everywhere, but here in the Hollow the snow was thick and deep. Devmani claimed it perfect for building forts and having snowball fights with children. Or sledding down the large hill at the park just outside of the town proper.
To him the world was quiet and still. He could hear the wind whispering through the branches of the naked trees and over the frozen surface of the streams and ponds.
He wondered what Elle would think if he told her that some nights, when the world seemed especially still, he could almost hear a soft voice singing with the wind as it swept over the ice and snow.
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