The summer sun shone on his face, its warm light completely enveloping him as he sat on the wooden park bench.
Her hand brushed over his before holding it firmly, so as to never let go of it. Her blonde hair reflected the sunbeams as she smiled, and planted a kiss on his lips. The grass tickled her feet and she let out a short laugh. They kissed again.
sábado, 21 de noviembre de 2009
Ragnar Wolfsbane, Of Gods And Ashes
The deer was still breathing when Ragnar approached it. The arrow had pierced its heart, leaving the animal in agony.
"A perfect shot", he thought before slicing its throat and ending the beast's suffering.
It twitched a few times and finally gave in to death, letting out a big sigh, its blood tainting the snow around it.
The hunter overlooked his prey. He had tracked it for hours, fighting through the cold and fatigue armed with his determination and courage. A single arrow is all it took for him to claim his trophy. He put the corpse over his shoulders, and hurried back to the village for the scent of the deer's blood would surely attract wolves and other undesireable predators. The myst caused by the recent snowfall would not let him see very far, but the village's ever present smoking chimneys let him find the way back, even over the tall mountains surrounding it. The sun was closing on with the horizon when he finally reached his wooden cabin on the border of the village's valley, quite far from the rest of the houses and much closer to the woods than its safe to be.
He sat down at his table, breathing heavily. It pained him to see his body being past its prime. This brief moment of peace was interrupted by loud banging on the door, however.
"A perfect shot", he thought before slicing its throat and ending the beast's suffering.
It twitched a few times and finally gave in to death, letting out a big sigh, its blood tainting the snow around it.
The hunter overlooked his prey. He had tracked it for hours, fighting through the cold and fatigue armed with his determination and courage. A single arrow is all it took for him to claim his trophy. He put the corpse over his shoulders, and hurried back to the village for the scent of the deer's blood would surely attract wolves and other undesireable predators. The myst caused by the recent snowfall would not let him see very far, but the village's ever present smoking chimneys let him find the way back, even over the tall mountains surrounding it. The sun was closing on with the horizon when he finally reached his wooden cabin on the border of the village's valley, quite far from the rest of the houses and much closer to the woods than its safe to be.
He sat down at his table, breathing heavily. It pained him to see his body being past its prime. This brief moment of peace was interrupted by loud banging on the door, however.
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