Post by //Cindy// l u n a on Apr 10, 2007 20:48:37 GMT -5
If you have ever felt at peace, one with the world, you would understand the feeling that was currently occupying Shadow's mind. Shadow, who was normally war-like and agressive, sat calmly, hidden in the patchy shade of the canopy, blending into the darkness of the rocks. His black eyes and pelt faded as well as the violance that he had felt for so long, the anger and hatred that had never left his thoughts. When he had killed Lilystorm, the peace had fallen, ever so briefly. But he had been in the company of a newly met rogue, and he had reason to give a good first impression.
Now, after that anger, like late snow, had melted, the world seemed pure. Shadow could hear every cricket chirping, and the melody of every songbird's whistle. Somewhere nearby a mouse stirred the underbrush, catching the attention of the black cat's nose and eyes. But his brain didn't stray, and he didn't even think about trying to hunt. His mind drifted, his thoughts were weightless. The sun briefly showed between two clouds, spotting the stone and earth with glimmers of light, but Shadow didn't pay the spotty light any attention. In truth, he didn't have any attention to be spared at the moment. All of this thinking was focused on not thinking, which came more easily than at most times. There was no one to kill, no one to evenge, no one to talk to. And no one to worry about. Everything was going on at once outside Shadow's little magical bubble, but inside it was only the littler animals, the insects and rodents, that moved and disturbed the peace. Somehow, actually, as there was movement, and disruption, it all melded together, forming one beautiful flow. The river of nothingness, of scattered minor events, swept Shadow up and away from even the most meaningless of dreams into another world, a world where nothing ever happened, and nothing ever would.
Now, after that anger, like late snow, had melted, the world seemed pure. Shadow could hear every cricket chirping, and the melody of every songbird's whistle. Somewhere nearby a mouse stirred the underbrush, catching the attention of the black cat's nose and eyes. But his brain didn't stray, and he didn't even think about trying to hunt. His mind drifted, his thoughts were weightless. The sun briefly showed between two clouds, spotting the stone and earth with glimmers of light, but Shadow didn't pay the spotty light any attention. In truth, he didn't have any attention to be spared at the moment. All of this thinking was focused on not thinking, which came more easily than at most times. There was no one to kill, no one to evenge, no one to talk to. And no one to worry about. Everything was going on at once outside Shadow's little magical bubble, but inside it was only the littler animals, the insects and rodents, that moved and disturbed the peace. Somehow, actually, as there was movement, and disruption, it all melded together, forming one beautiful flow. The river of nothingness, of scattered minor events, swept Shadow up and away from even the most meaningless of dreams into another world, a world where nothing ever happened, and nothing ever would.