[Chron][PRP] Love at first sight - Libra15 & Rosencranz

[Libra15]

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Libra15 - Daenerys - 395

Rosencranz - K'ragle - (Word Count)  

[Libra15]

Frustration, oh the frustration. The frustration of being so young, so new. The frustration of learning all about who you are, and what you can do. The frustration of watching others do so much with their abilities, and you couldn’t even move a stupid apple across the room. Daenerys snarled slightly with consecration as her tail flicked, her eyes set focused on the apple before her. Slowly it started to move upward, lifting just mere centimeters off the ground. It hovered not even an inch off the land as it started to quiver slightly before it began to make its way toward the beautiful being whom was watching it slow closely.

Closer and closer it crept, shaking more and more the closer it got. I reached just over half way before it fell to the ground. Daenerys raised her lips in a snarl staring at the pile of apples that where just a few steps from her. She could never seem to get them past that point. Nor could she picked the ones up which were at that point. With a sigh of frustration she hit her head into the ground with a force, taking perfect advantage of her thick skull. Naturally she didn’t feel a thing.

It was quite a funny sight. The white body of a fire tribe, laying with her back legs stretched out straight behind her, and her front paws straight in front…forehead pushed against the ground in frustration. Just a few steps away was a mound of at least a dozen apples, and a few more steps from that was another mound half the size and what was quickly growing smaller. If one was close enough they would be able to hear her stomach rumbling. But yet this stubborn cat like creature refused to eat until she had successfully moved an apple to her reach.

She lifted her head slightly and hit it against the ground harder and sighed. The ground shook slightly at the impact and her skull left a small crack. Now she felt better. Lifting her head up, she straightened up her posture a little more and narrowed her eyes once again, glancing past the mound of apples to the further of them. Once more her little trick started, as she worked lifting one apple off the ground, in attempt to satisfy the craving in her belly.

WC = 395
 

[[ Radical Dreamer ]]

It had been another lovely day granted by the weaver. The sun had just began is climb announcing the morning sky. The chronicler had felt a familiar tug on his heart-nay, soul. The gentle tugging had caused the tahtll to out stretch his given feathered wings, and take flight in the direction of a unfamiliar area. Well, that is to say, he wasn't sure if he had headed out in such a direction before. After all, the chronicler only knew his direction based on where he knew the Weaver wanted him to go. It was a 'calling', if you will. Like a friendly tug of his ear, a kind whisper. Guiding him to where a story was to be recorded in story. It was so strong, so natural that he could swore if he looked quick enough and listened just closely; a friend would be 'there' whispering, with a guiding paw,

'Follow me, I want to show you something...'

He would say....

There was a few directions in this area, in the lava flowing fire territory, that the chronicler could choose to find a story to record. Or so he felt, and he couldn't help but be a bit curious to what tales they might be.

The heat that had risen from the smoldering rocks, was noticeable as he felt his skin under his fur start to work up a mild sweat with the beating of his feathered wings. Nothing that would hinder the Watcher from his duty, he had been to the territory once before, well just outside of it....
....

But that tale was for another time, and was only for the eyes of the reader of history, once of course it was turned in. Like it was yearly to be done, or in his case much sooner when his journal was too full to add a sentence more.

With a heavy flap of his wings, the Chronicler released a tight breath past the restricting mask. It was getting hotter the closer he approached the glowing, and rocky mountains. They truly were a sight to behold, it was like the rocks seemed to have a life of their own, how they glowed and radiated with power.

It wasn't long before the Chronicler's careful eyes noticed a white dot in the distance. With a tilt his wings he swoop off to the side and in a instance, before he was sighted and wouldn't be noticed. He would need to walk the rest of the way to get a good enough view to see if there was anything that should be recorded. Not, that there was ever anything that couldn't be recorded....So far.

Touching down on the warm earth, The chronicler lifted up one of his paws and looked at the underside of it. The pad of his paw was unscathed, and he could easily record about how much hotter the ground was under him then it had been in another area. It was just like before, and still just as surprising. With a swish of his brown tail, the mask adorn b'alam lowered himself closer to the ground. Swiftly and skillfully, the Tahtll slipped over to where the white dot had been. Not to hunt, but to watch and hopefully record.

So stalk? Well, not for long anyways...

Making himself hidden among the red and warm rocks. He easily could thank the Weaver for his warm coat that would make hiding in such a barren terrain so much easier. The only thing he needed to be mindful of was his dark locks of hair, luckily his special mask did a fine job of concealing it.

His teal sharp gaze watched carefully at the scene before him, a white Nahtill was off in the distance with a pile of red. Squinting his gaze, the mound of red began to take shape. Red rocks....no, texture was familiar, they looked like...Apples? Where those apples? Delicious succulent and ruby colored fruit? One, that he admittedly enjoyed at the water tribe. They were really far from there now, however.

Hmm how curious...that they would be all the way out in such a territory, it truly was fascinating! Surely, how they came to such a place was a tale in it's self! Too bad he hadn't' been around to see that.

But alas, he digressed...

Unseen paw shifted the satchel from around his neck, and in a swift moment the journal was reviled. In a second moment the ink and quill was next to reveal himself as if they had a mind of their own. Taking in a slow breath, the journal opened and while still focused gaze watched the scene, the quill tip touched down on the fresh page. In a instance, the pen went on to work scrawling quickly on the page everything the watcher witnessed. From the gorgeous white, and gold horned nahtill, her struggle with moving the rocks, to the finest of cracks that decorated the stones around her.

The chronicler could easily admit the excitement he felt, if his maw had not been bound. To see history in the making was truly a special privilege to behold. That is why as a witness to history, it was important to record every detail. So that history's reader would, if possible-feel just as privilege reading the recordings as he did watching them. For this, he could not miss a detail. It is what actually inspired him to learn to write without looking down to the page before him.

A careful ear turned to the side as if something once more kindly tugged at his ear, nodding to himself. The chronicler made note to where else he would need to go, in the new hot land. But for now, this moment in history was to be recorded for all who as interested, and that is what was before him now. He couldn't wait, to see what the weaver wanted him to see...

This was to be a important moment in history.