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//?A Curious Sergal (3)- Part 16- Version 1She slowly raked her claws over the smooth wood surface of the Reono-crafted table, gouging out small filings of once professional-level carpentry work. Her golden eyes watched, ever intrigued by the destruction her claws wreaked on the hapless wooden surface. All these clutters of paper were boring her. The Brutal General found it funny how such small scribbles could mean so much to some people.
Rain gazed up from the parchment. A lone spearlancer stood at attention at the periphery of the far side of the grand table that used to be the center piece of the Reono dwelling they searched in. It was scorched, and one of its legs was beginning to splinter. None of that mattered though. It was going to be a heap of ash by the time the Shigu left. There would be nothing left of value in the city-state that would not have been raided or burned by then. The less resources that her army left behind meant the less resources for another army that opposed her.
//?A Curious Sergal (3)- Part 15- Version 1It was dark. But slightly warm. The wind penetrated his fur, spreading an all too familiar smooth cool all over his skin. A soft, dull pain seemed to reside in all his bones, making it just uncomfortable enough to matter. Jax’s eyes cracked open. A soft orange glow resided over everything, the trees, the soil, in small needle-like reflections on his fur.
He was too dazed to try to feign sleeping, and as he lifted his head off his right arm the pain shot through his bones, but slowly died down. As the blood returned to his arm he held his fingers in front of himself and tested them. Thousands of tiny needles danced on them while the blood began circulating again.
“You’re up”, a familiar female voice spoke, “Good”
Jax slowly shifted himself to get a better view of his audience by reaching his left arm near the ground, but nearly went limp when a pain struck his ribcage’s core.
“My General!” a small figure presented itself before o
five hour energyi suppose
last week was only an aftershock
of the earthquake you were before.
this place used to vibrate
with metal strings and melodic,
testimonies to life,
emitting coffee-scented moods
and the burn of it too.
i had memorized the
sounds of silence,
i couldn't help but relish it.
no longer had i known
the sounds of folk
and scent of mocha-
you became nothing more
than an echo of the laughter
i so desperately needed to hear again.
then the echoes got louder,
bouncing ferociously off the walls
to be made manifest
i walked into your room
expecting exactly what i found-
an unmade bed,
and an empty beer
(the one that you insisted you needed
just days ago).
i pressed my nose
into the pillow
for incense and cologne and starbucks
to penetrate my mind
and thinking fervently
i already know
what a clean sheet smells like."
how strong an aftershock can be,
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More