Summer 85, 511; Somewhere in Dreamscape… Mizahar time: Around Midnight onward Beauty, primal beauty. The light of this place highlighted the grass to shades of emerald and viridian, and the sky blazed alight in hues of amethyst. The clouds floated over this land close enough for the hawk to perch himself upon should he have felt need to rest in his hunt. The grasses beyond color comes up to the knee of any beast that walked through it, and hid all the beast’s prey within. Layers and layers of foliage littered the earth, for moss grew where the light could not penetrate the grassy blanket, or at least in a sense of touch…it was soft and warm. The sun, it seemed, was settling in the west and repelled the shadow of the eastern mountains for a bit longer in its last hours. As the hills cascaded to the north, farther along the path one went, so increased the sounds of a running stream. The sun, though eternal in its lofty placement, did begin to shift and in the furthest reaches of the nearby wood overlooking that stream, the air became an alien prism allowing emphasis of those reds, oranges, and greens all the more. At the top of a hill overlooking this scene laid a beast: direly large, black as pitch, and eyes glowing. The glow of the sun reflected in them so softly, mirrors against the sky, doors to the soul, eyes so magical in purpose and yet to vainly flaunting in appearance. He overlooked the plains as if his own. There was a vague sense of familiarity to them in concerns to the large cat. There was a sensation of whisper on the air, some sounds oh so acquainted to Sylira and its majesty. The moon was starting to take shape in the sky, far behind the darkening clouds. The earth was still warm in all senses, but that feel of comfort was dwindling, slowly, very slowly. Gentle sounds of clapping buds took over the otherwise silent plain. The wind picked up and the rush took through the grasses again, and they waved back and forth in the evening light. The beast lay now, paws hung over his perch and tail thumping. Thump, thump, thumping against the ground like some dumb metronome that can’t keep a beat. The glare in his eyes faded as his head turned farther off. He stood against the light of the sun and took a giant’s leap a quarter of the distance between him and this thing. From then on he began his prowl. He took his time as there was that sensation of dominance, he wouldn’t lose sight of this object of fixation; he couldn’t here. |