THE PALE MORNING SINGS OF FORGOTTEN THINGS --
He managed to clip a sample of the ivy, before it fell apart – and leaked pearls – but the sample fell apart too, and he found himself with nothing more than a pearl in a vial, and he wondered if it would last, either, or if it would keep changing, like its brethren seemed to suggest. Septimus wasn’t sure if he liked that as much as he liked the initial promise of adventure; the transition of a living thing into something dead reminded him of why he never remained in any one mortal realm for too long, more than a few years off his lifespan.
But he had more pressing things to concern him than ugly, ugly mortality. The island that rose in the distance was beautiful, and, like most beautiful things in nature, Septimus assumed that meant that it was dangerous; however, danger hadn’t stopped him from stepping out onto the bridge, or making any number of ill-advised decisions, such as falling into Novus, and considering how old he technically was, Septimus had made innumerable. If the island contained things – and, more importantly to a naturalist like Septimus, creatures - that were as unusual and unnatural as the pearl-bearing ivy, he had to see more of it.
He still couldn’t fly, and that made some anxiety coil up in his stomach, even as he made great, bounding strides towards the island, seemingly-unhindered by the vague press of fear at the distant edges of his mind. Some animals could practically smell fear, he reckoned, or sense it, through posture or any number of other little cues that one was apt to give off when they were on edge; even if some part of him was scared, particularly given that this wasn’t apparently a normal occurrence in this land (if the reactions of his fellows were anything to go by), he couldn’t allow it to show on his features, or he chanced getting in over his head.
(Or antlers, really.)
He did not stop running until he reached the shore, his dark hooves kicking up great clouds of ivory sand; the beach was pristine, even as bodies swarmed it, and he couldn’t help but marvel a bit at the untouched nature spilled out before his eyes. It was like the forest, but newborn.
He tilted his head towards the seemingly-massive expanse of trees further inland, his green eyes glittering with fervent curiosity. Untouched, unexplored…think of all the new things to discover! That he could discover. In spite of some essence of his better judgement, which has rarely altogether won with Septimus in his life, he presses forward, into the shade, and he tells himself that, so long as he follows his mother’s rules for navigating the wildlands, he will be fine in whatever strange place this is.
@ || he and sera sure have different views on this development, huh.
"Speech!"
He managed to clip a sample of the ivy, before it fell apart – and leaked pearls – but the sample fell apart too, and he found himself with nothing more than a pearl in a vial, and he wondered if it would last, either, or if it would keep changing, like its brethren seemed to suggest. Septimus wasn’t sure if he liked that as much as he liked the initial promise of adventure; the transition of a living thing into something dead reminded him of why he never remained in any one mortal realm for too long, more than a few years off his lifespan.
But he had more pressing things to concern him than ugly, ugly mortality. The island that rose in the distance was beautiful, and, like most beautiful things in nature, Septimus assumed that meant that it was dangerous; however, danger hadn’t stopped him from stepping out onto the bridge, or making any number of ill-advised decisions, such as falling into Novus, and considering how old he technically was, Septimus had made innumerable. If the island contained things – and, more importantly to a naturalist like Septimus, creatures - that were as unusual and unnatural as the pearl-bearing ivy, he had to see more of it.
He still couldn’t fly, and that made some anxiety coil up in his stomach, even as he made great, bounding strides towards the island, seemingly-unhindered by the vague press of fear at the distant edges of his mind. Some animals could practically smell fear, he reckoned, or sense it, through posture or any number of other little cues that one was apt to give off when they were on edge; even if some part of him was scared, particularly given that this wasn’t apparently a normal occurrence in this land (if the reactions of his fellows were anything to go by), he couldn’t allow it to show on his features, or he chanced getting in over his head.
(Or antlers, really.)
He did not stop running until he reached the shore, his dark hooves kicking up great clouds of ivory sand; the beach was pristine, even as bodies swarmed it, and he couldn’t help but marvel a bit at the untouched nature spilled out before his eyes. It was like the forest, but newborn.
He tilted his head towards the seemingly-massive expanse of trees further inland, his green eyes glittering with fervent curiosity. Untouched, unexplored…think of all the new things to discover! That he could discover. In spite of some essence of his better judgement, which has rarely altogether won with Septimus in his life, he presses forward, into the shade, and he tells himself that, so long as he follows his mother’s rules for navigating the wildlands, he will be fine in whatever strange place this is.
@ || he and sera sure have different views on this development, huh.
"Speech!"
STAFF EDIT***
@Septimushas rolled a 5! He has been awarded +180 signos.
AND RARELY, IF THE WOOD ACCEPTS THE BLADE WITHOUT CONDITIONSthe two pieces keep their balance in spite of the blow❃please tag Septimus! contact is encouraged, short of violence
