3 rocks 2 leaves 1 hole
Posted: Sun Sep 21, 2003 10:58 pm
After making his way through the stumps, once a wild forest to the north of town. He pasued to look at the shrine. The sun shone down in all its anger, the heat making Drathe perspire. He wiped his brow with a sleave, the sweat taking to the material leaving its mark.
He gazed around. Holes and little piles of dirt some in lines other in random places pepperd the area. Each one a mark of the greed of each and every race of the land. Each theft of every seedling under the steady every watchful eyes of the alter the alter of the gods.
He pressed on north to the coast. Upon reaching the shore he paused and taking of his boots walked ankle deep in the cool sea water, continuing west along the shore. Shading his eyes from the sun with a hand he looked ahead. There they were. The three rocks, a secret home to the last planted fir tree seedling. His spirts high he picked up pace to a jog, his foot steps splashing the sea water up his trouser legs.
His breath cought in his throat, his shoulders sagged. Every day for the past week he had come here, talking, caring and watering the tiny seeding. It had taken root and grow supprisingly well for the dry sandy soil. He had planted it away from the shrine in honour of Sirani. He had named it Gala after the pristess of the faith, in hope it would grow to be like her. Spreading its seed, its protection, love and energy across the island.
Now... all that remained of Gala were two small leaves and a single hole. The final act of greed, a greed that would most likely signify the final nail in the coffin that was the island of Illaion. His sigh was as deep as the ocean he stood in, his anger as high as the sun that shone in the same shade of blue.
His mind swam with sea of red. His anger was not for the fact that all the time, effort and caring he had put into the plant was now worthles. But the fact that the seedling had obviously been planted here out of sight and some thieveing bastard had DUG IT UP! they had come here knowing FULL well what the plant was, WHY it was here and WHAT for. Yet still they had taken it!.
Looking out south over the baren woods he shouted aloud, his voice an angry gruff pitch.
'I if I find out who dug up Gala I will stick that plant so far up where the sun does not shine people wil think YOU are the damn tree.!'
With that he kicked the small pile of dirt and trudged back to the town. Maybe they will put it back he thought, no, fat chance of that.
He gazed around. Holes and little piles of dirt some in lines other in random places pepperd the area. Each one a mark of the greed of each and every race of the land. Each theft of every seedling under the steady every watchful eyes of the alter the alter of the gods.
He pressed on north to the coast. Upon reaching the shore he paused and taking of his boots walked ankle deep in the cool sea water, continuing west along the shore. Shading his eyes from the sun with a hand he looked ahead. There they were. The three rocks, a secret home to the last planted fir tree seedling. His spirts high he picked up pace to a jog, his foot steps splashing the sea water up his trouser legs.
His breath cought in his throat, his shoulders sagged. Every day for the past week he had come here, talking, caring and watering the tiny seeding. It had taken root and grow supprisingly well for the dry sandy soil. He had planted it away from the shrine in honour of Sirani. He had named it Gala after the pristess of the faith, in hope it would grow to be like her. Spreading its seed, its protection, love and energy across the island.
Now... all that remained of Gala were two small leaves and a single hole. The final act of greed, a greed that would most likely signify the final nail in the coffin that was the island of Illaion. His sigh was as deep as the ocean he stood in, his anger as high as the sun that shone in the same shade of blue.
His mind swam with sea of red. His anger was not for the fact that all the time, effort and caring he had put into the plant was now worthles. But the fact that the seedling had obviously been planted here out of sight and some thieveing bastard had DUG IT UP! they had come here knowing FULL well what the plant was, WHY it was here and WHAT for. Yet still they had taken it!.
Looking out south over the baren woods he shouted aloud, his voice an angry gruff pitch.
'I if I find out who dug up Gala I will stick that plant so far up where the sun does not shine people wil think YOU are the damn tree.!'
With that he kicked the small pile of dirt and trudged back to the town. Maybe they will put it back he thought, no, fat chance of that.