The sands shift. the wind barely caresses the sand of the large dunes, but still the desert changes as if itself is a living creature. The sun bakes the land as the heat shifts and warps the view in his eyes; his own sweat evaporates before it can even fall to the hard rock beneath his feet. His viewpoint offers even less shade from atop of the plateau. It bring him closer to the star above and provides him with the view he needs. His skin burns under the suns rays. The Seeker closes his eyes and looks up to the source of light, remembering...the familiar burn, the same disorientation from it's heat, the power that bakes the desert beneath him, and the fire that has scorched the rock he stands on...his home.Â
The Miqo'te opens his eyes again, having spent a good portion of the day watching and waiting for his prey like a hawk. There have no been no clear signs, having already been erased by the sands, but any good hunter from his land would know to follow the smaller traces. The fine lines unseen by the eye, but only found within the deserts spirit. It must guide him if he's to ever succeed.Â
He has hunted this prey before. A dangerous foe with the ability to strike many men down, but he knew of this danger and that thrill provided him with his fire.
He recalls, from the time when he was a boy, what this beast was capable of, but he has changed much since then. He is a man now, and it is time again to claim his right again.Â
His clenches his fists as he searches for the traces; recalling a familiar feeling of vulnerability, anxiety, and insignificance looking down upon this vast desert. He is humbled by it's power, but knowing that he himself must yet again master himself and the desert if he ever wishes to prove his worth.
Â
He is a man now, and although these feelings are necessary for any good hunter, he knows what he must do. He MUST master himself...and face the greatest prey this land has to offer.Â
He stands on his plateau and watches for the traces, for the small signs in the shifting ocean of the Sagolli.
(( This is a personal log for G'leo's thoughts. All comments and critiques are welcome, but no roleplaying will be taken part of in this chat. Feel free to follow along if you are interested. ))
The Miqo'te opens his eyes again, having spent a good portion of the day watching and waiting for his prey like a hawk. There have no been no clear signs, having already been erased by the sands, but any good hunter from his land would know to follow the smaller traces. The fine lines unseen by the eye, but only found within the deserts spirit. It must guide him if he's to ever succeed.Â
He has hunted this prey before. A dangerous foe with the ability to strike many men down, but he knew of this danger and that thrill provided him with his fire.
He recalls, from the time when he was a boy, what this beast was capable of, but he has changed much since then. He is a man now, and it is time again to claim his right again.Â
His clenches his fists as he searches for the traces; recalling a familiar feeling of vulnerability, anxiety, and insignificance looking down upon this vast desert. He is humbled by it's power, but knowing that he himself must yet again master himself and the desert if he ever wishes to prove his worth.
Â
He is a man now, and although these feelings are necessary for any good hunter, he knows what he must do. He MUST master himself...and face the greatest prey this land has to offer.Â
He stands on his plateau and watches for the traces, for the small signs in the shifting ocean of the Sagolli.
(( This is a personal log for G'leo's thoughts. All comments and critiques are welcome, but no roleplaying will be taken part of in this chat. Feel free to follow along if you are interested. ))
