Shout in the Wind
09-21-2016, 10:41 PM
(This post was last modified: 09-26-2016, 09:45 PM by Darrow.)
The night tasted different to the day, a softer flavor and muted tones. The wind was calmer, this night, at least. He could feel it stirring about the golds of his feet. He could hear it in the faint rustle of leaves as they drifted towards the earth, in soft rising, falling, patterns. He had always loved the wind, and he had to close his eyes and listen hard to hear it's whisper. Arch had always liked the night. He found the muted grays of shadows easier to process then the million shades of gold the sun could bestow upon the world. It was quiet, and empty, even well it teemed with life. Searching for moments to be alone, to sort through the colors of the day, he almost always found what he was looking for in the night. He walked to the music of his own breath, and took in the muted reds of the giants forest as he began to sort through his memories. He had difficulty forgetting, everything he saw, felt, and heard lingered in his memories as fresh as the first time. It was overwhelming on his sensors, but the familiar rhythm of his step and the cool embrace of the night, enveloped around him, started the nightly process of washing away the bright and new feel of everything he had seen that day. |
