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Date Posted: 20:38:06 12/18/02 Wed
Author: kwayera
Subject: thing



there was something addictive about being in a new place, seeing faces you have never laid eyes on before - but it goes along with the saying - 'make new friends, but keep the old'. she had distant, foggy memories of another time and another place, of other people and old faces - it was like a voyage of dubious acrimony, the emotions that those memories provoked. such vehemance buried in the wrathful nostalgia - dejection and ire going hand in hand with such prophecies. a scent, so small and trival on the playful breeze, yet so hugely important - insignifigance is overrated, it seems. i raise my scarred head to the breeze, the soft scents of pine and flowing water flooding my senses until i am able to pick out the intriguing marker from other distractions - it smelled of altitude and birch trees, of militants and power. i close my eyes as i greedily gulp in the scent, my mind whirring frantically as i experience the heady feeling of deja vous. suddenly i am years back in time, watching with youthful arrogance a herd below my hiding place - my white, mercifully unmarked coat blending strangely with the undergrowth. flash - i am declaring with outrage my loyalties as i stand beside the only king i had ever known at the time; duplicate, one who's image barely flits across my mind. flash - i am fighting for my life, hopelessly outgunned and outnumbered, my neck being mutilated under the creul hooves of points of authority and another. flash - i am enduring expulsion, my thoughts twisted and delirious in my emaciation; starving and dying. a face haunts my dreams, the last one i had seen before leaving beaten to within an inch of my life - a delicate fleabitten mare, watching with cold, victorious and detached eyes. such an expression sharpens my resolve and i endure; escorted and thrown roughly in the dust of the vulture's realm. all though my time in hawkmeadow i had dwelled on that face, if only unconsciously, wondering if i could ever seek betrayed retribution from her kind - and yet, i had heard of my enemy greeting the doors of death, and all hopes of vengance had sagged. despondancy followed after the death of night walker, and i forgot the face - only to see it again, in the flesh, from my hiding place in the trees. it was like walking back in time, the same scene played out to the letter, only older - i had aquired many new scars, and she looked different. older, wiser. i wasn't sure how i looked to her - indeed, i wondered if she had even seen and recognised me, a long forgotten wisp of a memory - i remember you, guerrila. i think i know why you're here - chimaera and vindication's legacy, i suppose. i have no bearing in the situation, but i am curious as to what is going on - after all, you are the first eaglecrestian i have seen for years. i have a thousand questions i want answered - about myself, about fartleque, and others - yet i keep silent, and just watch.

i fought for my freedom
my name
and my honor
i lived for my sister
and died for my country



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