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Ritual of the Stones << Previous | Next >>

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The place of stone and fire had been sacred to the Tribe since the Tribe was. Anorthyte did not understand why, but the warmth of the fire spread across the stones and made strange scars glitter deeply, as if guarding great secrets. Anorthyte stared at the scratches and cracks until the coals burned low and the young and old of the Tribe found sleep. The omen-object remained cold against the white-thumb's side, carried here for days, now.

Anorthyte slept, and dreamt of cracks and scars. Ash drifted across the Tribe while all tried not to think of the coming day's journey, and the growing hunger of nights to come. The moon passed its zenith without incident. When the last spark of the dying coals winked out, Anorthyte shifted, eyeing a dream too deep.

Suddenly, the white-thumb was woken by a terrible sound - an indescribably horrible sound. A light seared the only pair of sharp eyes to see it. A single whispering croak tugged at the pointed ears which listened. A presence began to be.

_____________

200 words~

I tripped and dropped this for a bit. A while. An eternity. But neverfear - or rather, fear very much, because the plot is coming for you, North!

Description

Ritual of the Stones << Previous | Next >>

_____________

The place of stone and fire had been sacred to the Tribe since the Tribe was. Anorthyte did not understand why, but the warmth of the fire spread across the stones and made strange scars glitter deeply, as if guarding great secrets. Anorthyte stared at the scratches and cracks until the coals burned low and the young and old of the Tribe found sleep. The omen-object remained cold against the white-thumb's side, carried here for days, now.

Anorthyte slept, and dreamt of cracks and scars. Ash drifted across the Tribe while all tried not to think of the coming day's journey, and the growing hunger of nights to come. The moon passed its zenith without incident. When the last spark of the dying coals winked out, Anorthyte shifted, eyeing a dream too deep.

Suddenly, the white-thumb was woken by a terrible sound - an indescribably horrible sound. A light seared the only pair of sharp eyes to see it. A single whispering croak tugged at the pointed ears which listened. A presence began to be.

_____________

200 words~

I tripped and dropped this for a bit. A while. An eternity. But neverfear - or rather, fear very much, because the plot is coming for you, North!