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Posted: Sat Mar 24, 2012 1:46 pm
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Posted: Sat Mar 24, 2012 1:47 pm
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Posted: Sat Mar 24, 2012 1:49 pm
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Posted: Sat Mar 24, 2012 1:52 pm
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Posted: Sat Mar 24, 2012 2:02 pm
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adult uncert || inspiration ... Quiet and curious, but a little shy. He means well but does not wish to frighten others - he knows his thoughts, his dream, his features are strange, and it makes him self-conscious. But he does not want to be lonely.
Slenderest fingers reached into the dim, shimmering water, and closed around the glowing crystal that grew from the floor of the shallow sea. The faintest tug dislodged it and he lifted it from the water reverently. Images flickered within, of beings and creatures and places unrecognizable and completely alien, but he knew them innately to be dreams. Not his, but someone else's. They were fascinating and he wanted to watch them longer, but hunger overcame him, and he raised the crystal to his mouth to swallow it whole. The glow of the crystal filled him and he was satisfied.
Quote: A gift to Never Idle:Dreameater approached the legend with shy reluctance... and a bit of an odd gait, intended to keep from dropping a large, ornate dead butterfly from where he carried it on his shoulder. It took a few tries to catch one of the crooked legs delicately between his teeth, but the strange purple kin presented the gift.
He offered it with care matching its fragile nature, though in spite of Dreameater's best efforts, the butterfly's wings still bore some tatters, and a few brilliant tiny colored scales dotted the buck's nose where he had mistakenly brushed it.
This was only half of the offering. Dreameater had a question, too:
"Why are our sleeping-dreams so much harder to remember than our naming dreams?" he asked, keeping his dull, dark eyes lowered. "Before I breathed air, I dreamt of swallowing shapes filled with brilliant scenes. Now when I dream those scenes on their own at night, I awaken feeling filled but the images themselves slip away."
The buck nodded to the butterfly. "Like the more you handle it with your mind, the more quickly the colors rub off and fade away."
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Posted: Sat Mar 24, 2012 4:01 pm
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Posted: Sun Apr 01, 2012 6:34 pm
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uncert | familiar uncert... Loyal but dependent
Head tilted down against the driving rain, the little one focused on her parents' hooves directly in front of her and worked to keep her balance. Her thick fur had soaked through half a mile ago, chilling her, but obviously stopping here would hardly solve anything. She envied her elders for their size; it felt like the gale was trying to throw her from the trail up the cliffside. A few more steps and she ventured to raise her head. As she did so, a sudden flash of lightning snaked across the sky, and she saw her face for the first time, reflected in the sheet of water pouring down the cliff face beside her. The father laughed at his little girl, transfixed by the illuminated image of her reflection, and told her, "You do not fear the height, or the rain, or the wind, but only yourself? ... A good start, perhaps, daughter."
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Posted: Wed May 23, 2012 9:50 pm
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Posted: Fri Jun 08, 2012 1:51 pm
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egg | foal | filly | adult uncert... Quiet, poetic, and a little morbid, but not unpleasant. Like the sweet goth girl sitting in the back of class, drawing flowers growing from skulls.
If they have one thing going for them, trees have long memories. This one in particular would remember the forest fire in its grain for the rest of its life, long after the charred, cracked bark had sloughed off and its charred branches healed. It was lucky, though, because the flames had not taken it completely as they had so many of its neighbors. Did trees feel obligation? This one may have -- growing over the silent ashes that remained and keeping watch for the seeds of its fellows, that would grow to replace those lost in the fire.
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Posted: Sat Jun 09, 2012 7:33 pm
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Posted: Sat Jun 09, 2012 7:36 pm
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Posted: Thu Jun 21, 2012 10:36 pm
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Posted: Tue Jul 10, 2012 8:48 pm
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Posted: Thu Jul 12, 2012 4:01 pm
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Posted: Sat Jul 14, 2012 1:23 pm
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