Lyra
05-22-11, 11:01 PM
Every night the same dream......It haunts me.
Trees dying, screaming out in pain. Flowers wilting, their songs fading off to nothing, Creatures fleeing the forest. The forest turns on me, branches grasping at my tunic, pulling at my hair, trying to overtake me in vines....I try and try to escape but to no avail. Same dream since I was little,ever since I can remember.....why does it keep coming back? Is it a vision? A premonition? Or just a bad nightmare? Why can I hear the
Lyra's thoughts were abruptly interrupted as Castien leapt nimbly onto her bed as he did every night the elf maiden awoke from her nightmares. Castien is a Lynx. He was given to Lyra as a young child to help keep watch over her. He is very intelligent and seems to be able to understand at the very least common. Castien had been a good friend and companion to Lyra since the day she was born and is very protective of her. He slunk across her bedsheets and gingerly layed his feline head in Lyras lap and looked up at her with almost glowing, knowing green eyes. He began to purr, reassuring his companion the best he could.
“The trees Castien, the trees were crying out to me again, but now I listen and the forest is sleeping” Lyra stroked his head, “Why does this happen to me? What are these dreams supposed to accomplish?”
Castien blinked slowly then rubbed his head in Lyra's hand in sympathy. Lyra sighed and laid back down and listened to the soothing sounds of the forest
As the sun came up over the horizon, Castien nudged Lyra awake. She stretched then prepared for her day. Lyra examined her naked body in the mirror. Her skin is very fair, but flawless. By elvish standards Lyra was a little short, standing at about 5 foot 5in. She had a very slim build but still managed to look like a full grown woman. Her curves hit her in all the right places, subtle but extremely beautiful. Her hair, now undone, sits at the base of her back, but when braided it rests somewhere near the middle between her shoulder blades.
Lyra began to braid her silvery white hair into her usual loose braid. Every lock of hair always seems to fall into place no matter the weather or activities Lyra is doing. Her leaf green eyes seem to bore into your soul, but while they draw you in, they also make sure you know that you are out of her league.
Lyra finished braiding her hair and finally started to dress. She donned a pair of brown riding pants, her usual white tunic, cinched with a woven belt that appeared to be made of delicate branches or vines, and brown leather boots that came just over her knees. She admired herself for a few more seconds in the mirror, knowing that she was the fairest in village, and hopefully she would find out soon, that she was the fairest in the world.
When Lyra wasn't studying this skill or that skill, she spent her time in the gardens. Lyra had few friends, whether its because she made herself unapproachable or people were unsure of her she will never admit, but the flowers and shrubs of the garden kept her company' and Castien of course. Lyra wandered through the garden, stopping to talk to the roses, and the lilies, listening for any plants in trouble. Everything seemed perfect. The flowers were singing their songs each species having its own part in the larger score, the trees in the garden took up the bass, the shrubs and bushes the tenor, vegetables and ferns alto, and the flowers contributed the soprano. Castien carefully walked along side Lyra, trying hard not to disturb any of the plant life.
Stranger.....Stranger in the forest......stranger......stranger
Lyra started at the discord in the garden's song and strained to hear the message that that the forest was trying to pass along. The words became clearer as trees closer and closer joined in the chant that only Lyra could hear.
Stranger.....stranger in the forest......stranger......stranger.....
Their warning almost deafening now, Lyra could only assume the stranger was approaching the village. She hurried to the gates, curious, to meet this mysterious wanderer.
Trees dying, screaming out in pain. Flowers wilting, their songs fading off to nothing, Creatures fleeing the forest. The forest turns on me, branches grasping at my tunic, pulling at my hair, trying to overtake me in vines....I try and try to escape but to no avail. Same dream since I was little,ever since I can remember.....why does it keep coming back? Is it a vision? A premonition? Or just a bad nightmare? Why can I hear the
Lyra's thoughts were abruptly interrupted as Castien leapt nimbly onto her bed as he did every night the elf maiden awoke from her nightmares. Castien is a Lynx. He was given to Lyra as a young child to help keep watch over her. He is very intelligent and seems to be able to understand at the very least common. Castien had been a good friend and companion to Lyra since the day she was born and is very protective of her. He slunk across her bedsheets and gingerly layed his feline head in Lyras lap and looked up at her with almost glowing, knowing green eyes. He began to purr, reassuring his companion the best he could.
“The trees Castien, the trees were crying out to me again, but now I listen and the forest is sleeping” Lyra stroked his head, “Why does this happen to me? What are these dreams supposed to accomplish?”
Castien blinked slowly then rubbed his head in Lyra's hand in sympathy. Lyra sighed and laid back down and listened to the soothing sounds of the forest
As the sun came up over the horizon, Castien nudged Lyra awake. She stretched then prepared for her day. Lyra examined her naked body in the mirror. Her skin is very fair, but flawless. By elvish standards Lyra was a little short, standing at about 5 foot 5in. She had a very slim build but still managed to look like a full grown woman. Her curves hit her in all the right places, subtle but extremely beautiful. Her hair, now undone, sits at the base of her back, but when braided it rests somewhere near the middle between her shoulder blades.
Lyra began to braid her silvery white hair into her usual loose braid. Every lock of hair always seems to fall into place no matter the weather or activities Lyra is doing. Her leaf green eyes seem to bore into your soul, but while they draw you in, they also make sure you know that you are out of her league.
Lyra finished braiding her hair and finally started to dress. She donned a pair of brown riding pants, her usual white tunic, cinched with a woven belt that appeared to be made of delicate branches or vines, and brown leather boots that came just over her knees. She admired herself for a few more seconds in the mirror, knowing that she was the fairest in village, and hopefully she would find out soon, that she was the fairest in the world.
When Lyra wasn't studying this skill or that skill, she spent her time in the gardens. Lyra had few friends, whether its because she made herself unapproachable or people were unsure of her she will never admit, but the flowers and shrubs of the garden kept her company' and Castien of course. Lyra wandered through the garden, stopping to talk to the roses, and the lilies, listening for any plants in trouble. Everything seemed perfect. The flowers were singing their songs each species having its own part in the larger score, the trees in the garden took up the bass, the shrubs and bushes the tenor, vegetables and ferns alto, and the flowers contributed the soprano. Castien carefully walked along side Lyra, trying hard not to disturb any of the plant life.
Stranger.....Stranger in the forest......stranger......stranger
Lyra started at the discord in the garden's song and strained to hear the message that that the forest was trying to pass along. The words became clearer as trees closer and closer joined in the chant that only Lyra could hear.
Stranger.....stranger in the forest......stranger......stranger.....
Their warning almost deafening now, Lyra could only assume the stranger was approaching the village. She hurried to the gates, curious, to meet this mysterious wanderer.