Re: [PRP] Crashing Wave [ Distant Tidings/Distant Thunder ]
Posted: Thu Jul 25, 2019 10:55 pm
"Oh, yeah?!" Tidings cried into the emptying marsh, silver tongue deserting him for once, "you too!"
He didn't specify which you, but since he had been left alone, he didn't have to.
Well.
That was it then.
All that the Swamp had promised him.
All that he'd dreamt, just as he'd dreamt, over in a week or two.
What had he expected, anyway? Clearly, he was never made to fit anywhere, to never find a home. Clearly, the Swamp had sent him this buck - and he hadn't been made to fit him either.
"It's all your fault," he hissed - to nowhere; everywhere.
And, perhaps, the barest whisper of the Swamp hissed back, it's all yours.
It was gone with the wind - all of it was, his dream, his joys. What ever did he think he could ever have had. It was gone, into the Swamp, because the Swamp made fools of them all. He was a fool, to think he ever could have trusted it.
He wanted a buck. A big, strong one. He wanted his buck, but he was gone with the wind. He would take another - he would take any one. He knew where he could find one, so off he went, with the wind.
* * * * * * *
"There you are," he cried, brightly as he could, a mockery of cheer, when he'd tracked down his iniquitous den; he wasn't alone, but he didn't care, "I've come to find you, as you've always bade me. I suppose it's all quite gone Sideways Down."
He didn't specify which you, but since he had been left alone, he didn't have to.
Well.
That was it then.
All that the Swamp had promised him.
All that he'd dreamt, just as he'd dreamt, over in a week or two.
What had he expected, anyway? Clearly, he was never made to fit anywhere, to never find a home. Clearly, the Swamp had sent him this buck - and he hadn't been made to fit him either.
"It's all your fault," he hissed - to nowhere; everywhere.
And, perhaps, the barest whisper of the Swamp hissed back, it's all yours.
It was gone with the wind - all of it was, his dream, his joys. What ever did he think he could ever have had. It was gone, into the Swamp, because the Swamp made fools of them all. He was a fool, to think he ever could have trusted it.
He wanted a buck. A big, strong one. He wanted his buck, but he was gone with the wind. He would take another - he would take any one. He knew where he could find one, so off he went, with the wind.
* * * * * * *
"There you are," he cried, brightly as he could, a mockery of cheer, when he'd tracked down his iniquitous den; he wasn't alone, but he didn't care, "I've come to find you, as you've always bade me. I suppose it's all quite gone Sideways Down."
