The sun rose tranquilly
The sun rose tranquilly, shedding its nighttime coat and sending warm beams of heat to illuminate the carved obsidian prison. The black rock penitentiary stood out like a spire on the plain, its sides smooth from constant battering by the relentless wind. The foreboding presence of the rock seemed to soak in the warmth with a greedy relish accustomed to the cold and opaque silence of the twilight.
In the distance, a midnight wolf, sensing the end of the hunting hour, howled its lonely existence to the dimming moon.
As the bright prodigy sun rose, slumbers spell overtook the harkened prisoner, exhausted from the night’s burdens in the dismal bridewell. ***
The parched feeble bracken rustled in the soothingly chill morning breeze stimulating the fresh scent of a new day and conveying its aroma across the frosted grassland.
The frozen loam was but a recollection of malice from the bewitching algidity.
A new day born from the ashes of another. ***
Crack! A frail limb broke above Brââk head sending it spiraling down. A quick dodge left the branch splintered on the obsidian floor, dangerously close. Another moment and he was back on his feet, reaching for his oaken advocate. Placing an emaciated finger on the thick gnarled tree, Brââk hefted the weight with practiced speed and steadied himself into a formidable attack position. The creature swooped from the shadows, its green talons outstretched and aimed right for his face. The scruffy middle-aged man cocked back the load and released, swinging the branch in front of him in a deadly arch. Brââk closed his eyes awaiting the impact of his make-shift weapon. He clenched his cavity ridden teeth and the weight in his hands disappeared. The air changed, it got cooler with a slight breeze that swayed his modest rags against his knees. Brââk opened one of his hazel eyes peering over the changed landscape with a steely sad gaze that showed years of sorrow and pain. About one-hundred yards to the left, what
In the distance, a midnight wolf, sensing the end of the hunting hour, howled its lonely existence to the dimming moon.
As the bright prodigy sun rose, slumbers spell overtook the harkened prisoner, exhausted from the night’s burdens in the dismal bridewell. ***
The parched feeble bracken rustled in the soothingly chill morning breeze stimulating the fresh scent of a new day and conveying its aroma across the frosted grassland.
The frozen loam was but a recollection of malice from the bewitching algidity.
A new day born from the ashes of another. ***
Crack! A frail limb broke above Brââk head sending it spiraling down. A quick dodge left the branch splintered on the obsidian floor, dangerously close. Another moment and he was back on his feet, reaching for his oaken advocate. Placing an emaciated finger on the thick gnarled tree, Brââk hefted the weight with practiced speed and steadied himself into a formidable attack position. The creature swooped from the shadows, its green talons outstretched and aimed right for his face. The scruffy middle-aged man cocked back the load and released, swinging the branch in front of him in a deadly arch. Brââk closed his eyes awaiting the impact of his make-shift weapon. He clenched his cavity ridden teeth and the weight in his hands disappeared. The air changed, it got cooler with a slight breeze that swayed his modest rags against his knees. Brââk opened one of his hazel eyes peering over the changed landscape with a steely sad gaze that showed years of sorrow and pain. About one-hundred yards to the left, what