→Seol 15: His First Effort

The Light

Astrolabe told me that     I think



One of the first things a druid will tell a curious blood elf is that the force called "nature" that they revere and beseech does not always appear to act towards good. To one brought up inside sheltering city walls, wild forces can seem cruel and terrifying. Thus the wolf becomes vile and rapacious in myth, as the fox becomes nefarious and insincere.

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((It's Pink, Like His Souuuuul))

Guess what I got today?

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→Seol/Astro 16: Remnants

Piled on a desk in an Aldor library: old notebooks full of scribbles, finely rendered landscapes, chaotic frenzies of stick figures; many copies of the same schoolhouse workbooks, painfully simple ones, with angry black marks or looping scribbles filling the answer blanks. A sketchbook, a real luxury item with bright white paper, a purple and gold Aldor symbol on the front, and not one drawing inside; a sewing kit, a set of blade-pens, a box of pigments; tiny bags of dried herbs that still smelled nice. And an envelope, stuffed fat with half-finished paper cuttings, figures carefully glued together, loose circles and triangles and squares.

At the front, on top of a small journal open to a page of neat Thalassian, a collection of notes scrawled in messy Common on bits of scrap paper, some slightly oil-stained as if they had been procured from a fishmonger. Collections of words: "feel" ... "things" ... "to be" ... "to grow" ... grouped by circles or linked by arrows, sometimes accompanied by small illustrative diagrams.

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