Lonely Island
Virgil
thinking "speech" "others" What exactly was he doing here? Who was to say, really. The auburn furred godling tended to be drawn by whim, and today he was quite far from home. It didn't bother him a great deal, he would head back eventually, but lately he'd been nipped by some kind of wanderlust bug. Perhaps it was the strange occurrences that seemed to be cropping up all over the place, stealing his attention away from the important duties of his pack and towards the mystery afoot. Regardless, he found himself shaking sand out of his fur and seawater from his ears as he wandered the pale beaches of a decidedly deserted island. The blue glow of the moonlight had turned the pale sands glittering in such a way that he wondered if he was actually walking over snow- and suddenly lacking all sensation from the pads of his paws. Particularly sensitive to the cold, he would have noticed right away if he was trudging through snow right now. Tropical plants filled the space between the palm trees that littered the far end of the beach. As he drew closer, and began to cast the edges of a shadow over their brightly coloured foliage, he realized it was not the moonlight that was lighting them up in strange shades of blue and purple. In fact, some of them were glowing entirely of their own will, the unique patterns of some thick ferns and succulent leaves highlighted with the eerie luminescence of the wisps that floated all around. They made no sound to indicate life, but the way they bobbed gently as though stirred by the breeze led him to believe they were hardly figments of his own imagination. Movement in his periphery caught the phoenix's attention, and he found himself watching the slow, ethereal movements of a cream and cinnamon coated dame. "Evening- er... Good night?" he called out hesitantly, cerulean optics tracing the careful way she picked a path along the beach. |
| Art by Monster |
