everybody wants to rule the world
07-08-2014, 12:00 AM
The shrine was a magic place. Pooka knew this in his bones. He had been here more than once before, sometimes alone, sometimes with his family. The glowing waters were magic, no matter what anyone said, even when they weren?t glowing. Pooka had wandered to the shrine alone this time, to enjoy the stillness and quiet of the reverent stones and unmoving trees.
He had arrived late in the night, to admire the glowing waters in the dark when they could be seen. A white-ish grey body that faded to black at the extremities had made him look like a ghost drifting through the standing stones as he tried to remember the legends about the runes that his grandfather had told. Pooka had watched the glow of the water and hoped that this time he might feel the waters awaken memories from past lives or forgotten dreams. Nothing had transpired; but he took that to mean there was nothing he needed to see right now. Deciding to spend the night at the shrine, he had hidden behind one of the stones, and slept silently.
In his dreams Pooka was not a wolf, he was a hyena, and then a fox with many tails, from that he became something else, that walked on two legs and waved about a stick, and from that he became something else he could not even describe. Through it all he was still himself and not himself. Pooka awoke from the dream feeling rested, and pleased, certain that the dream had been from the magic of the spring. When he woke up, from his hiding place, he heard a small voice ask a question.
Pooka could not help but smirk. It sounded like a pup, and sure enough when he quietly peeked from where he hid, he saw one, staring at the water, apparently unimpressed with the magic she saw all around her. When she settled down Pooka had hatched a devius plan to tell her he was a ghost, to make her believe in the magic. Maybe they could play and he could tell her stories and when the sun set she could see the fountain glow.
As he was about to step out from hiding, however, he heard something else approach and vanished back behind the stone. Ears straining he heard a male wolf speak to the small pup. Pooka resisted the urge to laugh when he heard her answer. She was scrappy, that was good. Still, it was best not to leave lone pups with adults that did not seem to know them. Especially males, they couldn?t always be trusted. Pooka should know, he was a male, and a stranger, and often full of trouble. Of course, his trouble was usually less harmful and more fun.
The winter wolf explained his odd greeting, and wove a story of princesses and quests. Pooka was half tempted to come out from hiding to see if he could come too; but something about the story and the way he asked the pup to come, after asking if they were alone did not feel right. Instead, Pooka stayed hidden and decided to act.
From where he hid behind the rock, Pooka let loose his most ghostly voice. A strained voice breathier and raspier than his real one. ?She is not aloooooooone? Pooka projected his voice so it would reverberate off all the stones, echoing around the shrine which formed a natural amphitheater. The echoes would make it hard to tell where his voice was coming from, and carefully, he darted as hidden as he could, from one stone to another, so his voice would not come from the same place twice. ?She is protected by the spiiiiiirit of this shriiiiine!? he continued in his best ghostly voice. "Winter woooooolf, if you are noble then you should bow before the saaaaacred spring and show respect to its guardian spiiiiiiirit!"
Oh boy this might just be fun after all~
He had arrived late in the night, to admire the glowing waters in the dark when they could be seen. A white-ish grey body that faded to black at the extremities had made him look like a ghost drifting through the standing stones as he tried to remember the legends about the runes that his grandfather had told. Pooka had watched the glow of the water and hoped that this time he might feel the waters awaken memories from past lives or forgotten dreams. Nothing had transpired; but he took that to mean there was nothing he needed to see right now. Deciding to spend the night at the shrine, he had hidden behind one of the stones, and slept silently.
In his dreams Pooka was not a wolf, he was a hyena, and then a fox with many tails, from that he became something else, that walked on two legs and waved about a stick, and from that he became something else he could not even describe. Through it all he was still himself and not himself. Pooka awoke from the dream feeling rested, and pleased, certain that the dream had been from the magic of the spring. When he woke up, from his hiding place, he heard a small voice ask a question.
Pooka could not help but smirk. It sounded like a pup, and sure enough when he quietly peeked from where he hid, he saw one, staring at the water, apparently unimpressed with the magic she saw all around her. When she settled down Pooka had hatched a devius plan to tell her he was a ghost, to make her believe in the magic. Maybe they could play and he could tell her stories and when the sun set she could see the fountain glow.
As he was about to step out from hiding, however, he heard something else approach and vanished back behind the stone. Ears straining he heard a male wolf speak to the small pup. Pooka resisted the urge to laugh when he heard her answer. She was scrappy, that was good. Still, it was best not to leave lone pups with adults that did not seem to know them. Especially males, they couldn?t always be trusted. Pooka should know, he was a male, and a stranger, and often full of trouble. Of course, his trouble was usually less harmful and more fun.
The winter wolf explained his odd greeting, and wove a story of princesses and quests. Pooka was half tempted to come out from hiding to see if he could come too; but something about the story and the way he asked the pup to come, after asking if they were alone did not feel right. Instead, Pooka stayed hidden and decided to act.
From where he hid behind the rock, Pooka let loose his most ghostly voice. A strained voice breathier and raspier than his real one. ?She is not aloooooooone? Pooka projected his voice so it would reverberate off all the stones, echoing around the shrine which formed a natural amphitheater. The echoes would make it hard to tell where his voice was coming from, and carefully, he darted as hidden as he could, from one stone to another, so his voice would not come from the same place twice. ?She is protected by the spiiiiiirit of this shriiiiine!? he continued in his best ghostly voice. "Winter woooooolf, if you are noble then you should bow before the saaaaacred spring and show respect to its guardian spiiiiiiirit!"
Oh boy this might just be fun after all~