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RMSephy
Halloween Quest - RedMaverickZero
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:2: Although he’d slept a full night, it was as if he’d only just returned from battle. His muscles and joints still ached; if only his head would stop pounding. The stone-muscled man began to sit up, squinting in the daylight, trying to banish the ache in his temples. His eyes sprinted to the floorboards as the pounding grew momentarily worse. Certainly, though, it wasn’t just his temples screaming in bloody agony. His calloused, sweaty hand hovered over the reddened bump growing on the back of his head. Don’t touch it. Damned East-Realmers and their clubs.... Feeling oppressed by the heat, Wedonkind snatched the blanket from behind his back and threw it to the ground. He wiped his hands on dirty pants. He could not stand the heat any longer. He sighed in frustration. A little wind in this forsaken place would be nice-- Wait. What had he dreamed? He had dreamed, he knew…. Dreamed what? Something odd in it, this dream. What was it that was so odd? Wind. That was it. Wind in the dream. Wind at his back. He started at a weak, airy pressure on his neck; eyes wide, and dagger in hand, he was ready to meet any ambush. He sighed again as the hut’s little door flew open to admit a fellow soldier. Wedonkind’s body was as a statue. Their eyes met. No words passed between them; he knew why the older man had come. With a nod, the warrior was gone. Breathing again, he went to replace the dagger under his pillow; after a thoughtful pause, the dagger found its way into Wedonkind’s leather belt, before the blond-haired young man began to don his armor. Horns outside. Always horns. The smell of burned salt. The air tasted of gritty dirt. A giant sky’s blue and white, contrasted with the dirty brownness that was humanity. The horns’ last vestiges faded. Wedonkind massaged his temples. Unnatural summer. - Copyright 2004 Thomas “Artimus Bena” McInturf -Feedback can be sent to ArdiaDrendalor@yahoo.com or to “Artimus Bena” through Castle Paradox. |
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