A Random Event Has Occurred!
The two horses are not the only ones searching for something.
At first there is only the noise of it, a kind of trembling on the wind, a fluttering between the trees like a pulse just below the jaw. Quickly - too quickly - the hum coalesces into music, high-pitched and strange. It is louder and louder, nearer and nearer, and still the source of it is unseen. And then the first dragonfly comes darting through the undergrowth.
It is jewel-bright, quick as a secret, its body the length of a hand. Its wings are moving too fast to see, but if it were still (if it were ever still) it would be clear in the way that sunlight slants through the lace of them that they are full of minuscule holes. Perhaps that is the source of the strange music.
But now is not the time for finding out. For it is only alone for less than a breath; an inhale later and there are hundreds of them, perhaps thousands, swarming the little clearing beneath the dense canopy, alighting on leaves and trunks and dirt and on the skin of the horses, too. And all the while that eerie music, like a piper.
Some of the dragonflies are a vibrant blue, like the purest wave; some are an emerald green that puts the strange birds’ eyes to shame. Some are ruby, some diamond, and each of them - if they were still for only a moment - would be revealed as truly gemstones, and not just borrowed color. Like the rest of the island’s inhabitants, they should not be alive; but nobody has told them so.
There seems to be a voice, made up of all the sounds of their wings. And it seems to say come with us, come with us.
They do not pause more than a flicker of wings or a dancing of tiny feet on the horses and the rocks and the plants. They are going somewhere, somewhere specific, moving like a symphony of color and noise through the brush.
Oh, will they follow?
At first there is only the noise of it, a kind of trembling on the wind, a fluttering between the trees like a pulse just below the jaw. Quickly - too quickly - the hum coalesces into music, high-pitched and strange. It is louder and louder, nearer and nearer, and still the source of it is unseen. And then the first dragonfly comes darting through the undergrowth.
It is jewel-bright, quick as a secret, its body the length of a hand. Its wings are moving too fast to see, but if it were still (if it were ever still) it would be clear in the way that sunlight slants through the lace of them that they are full of minuscule holes. Perhaps that is the source of the strange music.
But now is not the time for finding out. For it is only alone for less than a breath; an inhale later and there are hundreds of them, perhaps thousands, swarming the little clearing beneath the dense canopy, alighting on leaves and trunks and dirt and on the skin of the horses, too. And all the while that eerie music, like a piper.
Some of the dragonflies are a vibrant blue, like the purest wave; some are an emerald green that puts the strange birds’ eyes to shame. Some are ruby, some diamond, and each of them - if they were still for only a moment - would be revealed as truly gemstones, and not just borrowed color. Like the rest of the island’s inhabitants, they should not be alive; but nobody has told them so.
There seems to be a voice, made up of all the sounds of their wings. And it seems to say come with us, come with us.
They do not pause more than a flicker of wings or a dancing of tiny feet on the horses and the rocks and the plants. They are going somewhere, somewhere specific, moving like a symphony of color and noise through the brush.
Oh, will they follow?
Each participant will be awarded +200 signos for encountering a Random Event! How you reply is up to you; feel free to NPC the dragonflies and where it is they are heading. This account will not be posted again during this thread.
Enjoy!
Please be advised, tagging the Random Event account does not guarantee a response!
