A pale shadow of the moon.

[Frostfather]

There are so many names to describe the darkness,
too many ways to lose one self in its murky embrace, forever lost.
Even the blind could feel that the night was coming, a tender touch, as a tendril of cold sweat that slowly trickled down your spine.
Even the deaf could hear the stillness the night promised, and the threat of what could be. Shadows grew long in its wake, a small inkling of things to come…

The night was young and still fresh; the gift of rest was not given, nor taken.
A whiff of the night flowers tickled his nose with its thick scent.
The moon was new, only a sliver of pure silver, looking back from the dark and still water.
An evening mist rose from the small forest lake, only the eerie sound of the loon birds could be heard over the deafening silence. Dark blood trickled down in small rivulets along alabaster limbs, the colour odd in the pale moonlight.

Who could forget the dark haired child with her starry eyes?
Never forget the dark haired child, her limbs frail and delicate.
Who could forget the child in her white gown of gossamer strands?
I would never forget the dark haired child with eyes that had seen the birth of the sun.
My pale shadow she said, that and the beating of the great white owl’s wings made his soul soar…

The man so pale, almost pearl white in the reflection from the lake. The wounds dark holes like ink blotches on paper, ruined, and now to be thrown away; only to be rewritten again.
The rivulets of warm dark fluid mixed with the cold dark waters, as he washed himself standing waist deep in the water.
He trailed the countless scars with a finger, blood and water flowed along the memories of pain, a map of sorts describing his path. All sacrificed in your name Moonchild, unknowingly and deliberately.

Now new pains came from the old and never forgotten, old quarrels from the beginning of time, a kin strife so real for him now. His efforts seen and noted by his enemies, new and old, what he had wanted and feared for.
The shadows came with an ill wind out of the desert, leaving whispered threats of death and promises bitter as poison.

The fear for kin and friends remained long after the desert shade had left. “Return into her embrace or the death of your friends will be the price you pay.”

He ducked into the water, enjoying the soothing cold darkness that embraced him.

[Misty]

I like

[Joachim]

[darrenhfx]

Ooh nice!

[Arkan Bladesinger]

[Joos]

Shivers down my spine, friend.