Clock: Chapter 09
The air smelled not only of blood, but of utter ruination. The Hunter took a spice he had in a pouch on his belt, and sniffed at it, to focus his senses, to smell the other things in the air, avoiding the scent of blood and fire.
Clay huts, crude bricks built by a people who had little to make their homes from, torn to nothing for the sake of it. Fires set to the crops, so that all life here would perish should they leave any stone unturned.
Eika could not stand the chaos of it. Still the dying screamed into the night, their blood and burning flesh filling the air. Her nose and eagerness to try to quell this insanity got the best of her, and she ran ahead, away from Hunter.
How did I abide such a thing ? He asks the question as though his partner is still near, but he is struck in awe, looking at a massive field of pure devastation. Everyone here was dying, or already dead, and it was by his hand that such a thing was put into motion.
Walking along the roads, he found
Clock: Chapter 08
It was not the sound of a beating drum that created such a rhythm. As he looked over the hill and towards the village below, he saw a new kind of struggle create such a terrible song. His friend sniffs at the air angrily, knowing almost better than him the senselessness of letting so much meat go to waste for something as trivial as conquest.
Easy girl he pats her on the head, but she still growls softly as the sound faintly rolls over the hills, every once in a small while the screaming of the dying over powers the clatter of weapons.
His name remains unknown to all but his mate and child, ever was it an insult from old men who put too much faith in that which they could not see. In their cruelty, the title he was assigned at birth was of his birth the last of his family line.
But later in life, he was given a new name. Hunter they call him now a title that seems very plain, but to be assigned something so universal in meaning, was to him and
Clock: Chapter 07
Poor Gale she didnt have much of a life only but two weeks after her brothers death, she too, was felled by a bullet many of them actually.
Good things do not come to those who wait, apathy causes only decay, and when action is finally brought from it, it is always directed poorly, and whatever good intentions there were, are lost amongst a sea of complacency.
When she was but seventeen years old, she had a fling with a boy from her school he asked once that she run away with him to an estate his family owned out in the country, that they could start a life there, just the two of them. At first she had thought him to be joking, but when she discovered he was serious, she declined, and later broke up with him she told him that she couldnt bear to leave her family.
Hindsight is a very cruel thing.
I actually made up that last bit but it seems kind of sad, doesnt it? Truth be told, with how strange a woman she was, s
Going HomeI spent the spring carelessly walking down a lovely line
So filled with glee I didnt see that I was just wasting my time.
Days passed and my path hit a dead end mixed with rhyme.
Regrets and smiles and the dew soaked nights, Ill be back soon, but not today.
This is just another way
This is just a different way home.
Though my past mistakes are many, I just carry on
Best not divulge the reason to everyone as to why youre gone.
Dont stand on my shoulders now though, not after what Ive undergone.
Fear and laughter in the afternoon rain, Ill be back, but Im not sure when.
This is just another way
This is just a longer way home.
Dont tread on dreams, theyre such fragile things
Foolish people carrying out foolish things by foolish means
Hoping for everything, just to break from routine
Lack of time and the changing wind, Ill be back, but not anytime soon.
This is just another way
This is just a better way home.
The eyes of those on
Clock: Chapter 05
It was not an easy trek from the prison camp back into the town. They remained partially in the woods to give them a better chance of remaining hidden, but eventually, they shed themselves of their militaristic garb, and were back within the confines of the rebel friendly town from which Gale was sent to become a part of the now obviously failed invasion.
From there questions were raised but it was Raven that handled them all. Gale was repulsed to see just how alike he and Islien were, that he could just smile to turn away all the unrest in the area. He was set on getting the Green Caps back to order again, but Gale noticed that he quickly wanted to be rid of the town, to move onto to whatever he had planned next that he was neglecting to inform her of.
And so he fled, Gale at his side, back to the district of the city looming in the horizon which they once called home. Gale hadnt been home in weeks, and the renewed worry for her parents soon returned to her, as did the depressio
Memory of the MountainFrom the east he stands to watch the seas, and on his knees he will weep and pray. Born from flesh of little value, raised to know nothing more than nothing itself, poor of cloth to assume poor of mind and heart
It is that heart that weeps.
It is that heart that is now lost.
Black were the clouds, making the shore froth with anger and ill intentions. Flotsam and bits of cloth wash upon the sand. His mind knows it, but his heart refuses it. The boats will not be coming back.
Leading men and women to places unknown, a journey that was not to be taken lightly. He sees a few bits of the ruined ships crash against the rocks far off from where he stands, his future and hope no more.
He wishes for nothing more than to have been aboard the ship as it was torn asunder, to have clutched at her one last time to have held her hand.
They were both supposed to grow to a ripe old age, together. But no more, as he sees the first of the bloated corpses start to wash upon the shore.
He has s