[center]
The lion arrived in brisk October.
Form consumed by shadows
Amongst the trees he slouched
slow
The grass bent to allow his passing
The flowers, heads graced with
heavy pollen crowns, knelt low to
stone
The face of a man, chiseled from
cold, igneous rock
shone pale from within his darkened
mane
He settled his heavy stone
weight upon the dense forest,
his being tucked between the
trees.
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Magpie Pelt|Noh Mask|Peacock Antlers
testing out this character, will keep if well recieved.
basically a sphinx taking more from the mythological aspects. an oracle of sorts and a wanderer of planes. riddle enthusiast.
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On his third day, two having been spent at rest, the lion acquainted himself better with the forest. Golden sunlight illuminated the stone maiden, her tears feeding the soft riverbed that outlet into the deep pond. Her stone held stories. A mother to many, first and last home to some. The salt had left her tears long ago, and from there sprang the looming forest.
A family or a temporary meeting of new friends frolicked nearby, kicking up blades of grass and purple flowers. The lion approached, glancing over as he passed. His appearance was noted, the elder became wary. He did not stop to look til he had passed and heard them resume play, and then only for a moment.
Before him now, a skeleton heaved its way from the earth, calcified bones jutting between the trees. Ivy grew from its tallest peaks where it now lay frozen in time, a resting place for the denizens of this forest. The lion perched himself on a blade. The carved rock all around him that comprised the skeletal remains smelled of sorrow, of still, of rest. This place was sacred once.
