[MAZE] Boar's Journey Through The Maze
Posted: Thu Oct 01, 2020 10:33 am
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Prompt 1
A1– 100 percent sanity – The Start
Draw your kin entering the haunted maze or them interacting with its contents in some way, if you intend to do the follow up art prompt, it might be fun to contrast the maze seen in full sobriety to the maze as seen under the full influence of the sinweed pollen. This can be any medium and any level of completeness.
(Art to come)
Boar did the maze every single year, and yet every single year it was something different, the snarled thorns growing in new and unusual ways or blocking off paths he'd remembered being clear and easy to traverse. This year he was sure would be no different, with the whole place a different entity than he'd seen before. Some kin sought truth in the pollen soaked paths, some sought direction they'd been lacking. He wasn't sure what he sought there, but he'd never found anything but violence and the tangled landscape of his own mind. It was a fun pasttime and challenge anyway, and this time he once again intended to go it alone. He'd considered for a fleeting moment inviting Follow The Light, he wasn't sure he could deal with how he'd feel if he accidentally ate him in the depths of pollen-madness.
Maybe they'd do it together another time.
For the time being, he headed into the maze itself, making his way under the looming snarl of thorns above the entrance and into the abject darkness that lay beyond, here the pollen was tolerable, the maze dotted around only with immature fleshy leafed flowers. The shadows cast strangely in the loose haze and all around was the heavy and unnatural quiet of the Bog. The seven's lands had always been quiet, inhospitable to the kind of fauna who liked to sing.
Or maybe the ones who lived here had simply learned that if you were silent you didn't get eaten.
Pushing through the thorns was easy enough with his thick hide and fur, with the scrapes glancing off of him.
Deep down, he felt like he enjoyed this festival because for a little while, he was able to just not be himself, to let go of the mask he wore of irritated self control at all times and be something more free, more magnificent than he was. Outside of his own mind it didn't matter, when the pollen ruled all expectations were set aside. It was a vacation of the mind, a reprieve from his duties and stresses. He didn't need to care about food stores or theives or anything like that, he only needed to care about the pollen and the maze and wherever it led him to.
So he forged on, and as he went, the sky became just a memory in the deep foliage.
Prompt 1
A1– 100 percent sanity – The Start
Draw your kin entering the haunted maze or them interacting with its contents in some way, if you intend to do the follow up art prompt, it might be fun to contrast the maze seen in full sobriety to the maze as seen under the full influence of the sinweed pollen. This can be any medium and any level of completeness.
(Art to come)
Boar did the maze every single year, and yet every single year it was something different, the snarled thorns growing in new and unusual ways or blocking off paths he'd remembered being clear and easy to traverse. This year he was sure would be no different, with the whole place a different entity than he'd seen before. Some kin sought truth in the pollen soaked paths, some sought direction they'd been lacking. He wasn't sure what he sought there, but he'd never found anything but violence and the tangled landscape of his own mind. It was a fun pasttime and challenge anyway, and this time he once again intended to go it alone. He'd considered for a fleeting moment inviting Follow The Light, he wasn't sure he could deal with how he'd feel if he accidentally ate him in the depths of pollen-madness.
Maybe they'd do it together another time.
For the time being, he headed into the maze itself, making his way under the looming snarl of thorns above the entrance and into the abject darkness that lay beyond, here the pollen was tolerable, the maze dotted around only with immature fleshy leafed flowers. The shadows cast strangely in the loose haze and all around was the heavy and unnatural quiet of the Bog. The seven's lands had always been quiet, inhospitable to the kind of fauna who liked to sing.
Or maybe the ones who lived here had simply learned that if you were silent you didn't get eaten.
Pushing through the thorns was easy enough with his thick hide and fur, with the scrapes glancing off of him.
Deep down, he felt like he enjoyed this festival because for a little while, he was able to just not be himself, to let go of the mask he wore of irritated self control at all times and be something more free, more magnificent than he was. Outside of his own mind it didn't matter, when the pollen ruled all expectations were set aside. It was a vacation of the mind, a reprieve from his duties and stresses. He didn't need to care about food stores or theives or anything like that, he only needed to care about the pollen and the maze and wherever it led him to.
So he forged on, and as he went, the sky became just a memory in the deep foliage.