This blog died for a while, Now I'm reviving it. 1st post in a long time.
He runs through the woods on nimble feet, making not a sound. It's instinct to him, how he never hits a tree, or stumbles on the gray branches and brambles that litter the forest floor. Clear and keen eyes scan his path, noting every crack in the ground. Every puddle, leaf, twig and bug is taken in stride.
He runs on, an unhindered soul beating with life on this cold autumn night. Every muscle of his ripples in unison, working not as seperate entities, but a single, focused power, as he charges through the underbrush. Stopping not, on and on he runs. Without fear, without inhibitions, he runs. Through the black, he runs.
Silent as the wind, he speeds through the darkness. Shadow upon shadow, few see, and those who see, none react, for they know it is futile to catch the ghost among the trees.
There! amongst the trees! a slimmer of light. He alters his path towards it. Every step brings him closer, every bound he takes brings him nearer to the light. The trail begins to go uphill. The soil slowly replaced with stone, angled in such a way no other would dare scale it. With everystep, it gets harder. every foot infront of the other, more effort is needed, more is put in. It is a hard climb.
But he will not be denied.
With a final snarl of defiance, he bursts from the treeline, onto the protruding cliff. Eyes a bright yellow look across up at the stars and full moon. He draws breath, filling his lungs with fresh air.
He lets loose the air in a long, unyielding howl.
The Sentinel on the cliff watches all.
Cheers and WaitingHealing Poet
