Dienstag, 8. Mai 2012

Komischer Kauz

Hm. Mist. Ich wurde inspiriert. Weil jemand gezeichnet hat, musste ich es auch tun, konnte mich einfach nicht wehren.

Damn, I got inspired. Since someone did draw I had to do it too. Just couldn't defend myself against it.

He stumbled into the woods and was guided by the spiraling roots of the trees. Trees that stood there in the twilight. But did they really just stand? He thought he saw an indefinite movement from the corner of his eye. It was not the first time that he was assailed by this strange feeling. Well, moving trees behind him, so he moved on foreward. Herbs touched his legs as if they were fumbling for the trespasser.
As he longed deeper into the woods his breath slowed down, his movements became smoother and he managed to set his steps without producing as much noise as he did before.
The twilight had turned into a darker shade of blue and every now and then he could see a glimpse of stars through the intertwined branches and twigs above him. He didn't know where he was going or why, he only knew he was. He exists. and that was more than he ever knew before.
He put one foot in front of the other. There was no path but the roots at his sides seemed to forme inticate patterns. Did they clos the way behind him? Would he ever be able to find out again? these questions appeared in his mind just for one moment, like a flash but were gone in the next second. He went on as if in a trance.
Something drew his attention to it. His nares widened a bit and he smelled a smoky breeze. But there was also something heavy and sweet in this smoke.
Now his eyes widened too. If there was the smell of fire, then there had to be someone in this wood. Normally he would have chosen a visible path and tried to avoid contact with other people. But how could he do that this night, in a wood not known to him with no obviously paths and trees which seemed to push him ever deeper into the unknown. So he just went on.

She sat there beneath the old oak at the edge of the small clearing. Her hair hang down over her forehad and the fire did cast a coppery glint on it. She grasped into a leatherbag with srange patterns on it, murmered somethng into her closed hands as she drew them from the pouch and then spilled various sticks, stones and shells on the ground. She began to move her hands above the scattered objects and read the runes on the stones and the directions of the sticks.
Now the fiery glint lit her eyes too. Bright eyes, eys that knew the secrets of this forest, the secrets of earth, water, air and fire.
She knew that she was not alone this night. He had finally felt the call. It was not her call, but she had heard it too, man many years ago. Sometimes she wasn't even able to tell, if it was in this life or in one of the others before. The call had become a part of her.
She took a bowl from the rim of the fire. A liquid was in it which smelled heavy. Before she lifted the bowl to her lips she threw a hand full of herbs and resin into the ashes and waved her feather fan with a handle from deer antler. She took a deep breath and drank. Nothing happened for some moments, then she sank into the darkness.
The tawny owl cried as it became aware of the lonely wanderer. It followed him with wide opened dark eyes. It didn't miss one single movement of his muscles. Then he really had heard the call. And the forest did its part to lead him. As it always does when it's time.

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