Post by darkblood_alchemist on Nov 4, 2006 16:51:29 GMT -5
Help short dogs in offices??
Icons by me, awesome sig by Night Life is a tragedy for those who feel, and a comedy for those who think. - La Bruyere If at first you don't succeed, try, try again. Then quit. There's no use being a dang fool about it. - W.C. Fields
Post by Wilderness Writer on Nov 4, 2006 20:11:42 GMT -5
Taking it a step further and turning it into a story (cuz that what I do, doncha know)
"Good bye." Hayla's voice seemed to hang in the air for a moment, a frail and broken-winged butterfly, before it was crushed by the tempestuous wind that whipped of the sea. She knew it never reached the ears of the warriors that lined the ship's railing, but then, it wasn't really meant for them. It was meant for herself.
Hayla watched the ship depart into the orange-red of coming dawn, the sky streaked with a smattering of blood-red color, an ominous and terrible foreshadowing of what was to come. The ship carried her father and her brothers away, along with the village chief and the boys who had once been her childhood friends, back when mothers still scolded about dirt on their clothes and the village elders sat in pools of sunlight and the smell of hot tapai drifted out of the doors from the cookfires.
It had been a long time since the days she would race those boys to the old tree and back. Maturity and work had hardened their muscles and war had hardened their faces. Hayla turned before the ship could dissapear entirely into the horizon. A part of her longed to go with it, to escape into battle and lose herself in the blood and mindless savagery of war.
She could escape the waiting, and with it the daily worry of what would happen if they didn't win... about the consequences of Ozai's final and complete rule. About what would happen to her younger sisters, her home, and the frail but treasured pieces of what was left of her nation if her father and brothers came back defeated... or didn't come back at all.
But she could not escape. She remained a fixed point between sea and sky, standing on the furthest rock of her homeland. As her final goodbye slipped from her lips, she acknowledged the end of her childhood innocence, carelessness, and freedom, and shouldered the heavy burden of silent bravery, knowing that she faced the task of keeping what was left of her village together, and surviving whatever was to come.