Okay, firstly the above is not the official title of this piece, but I haven't thought of a proper one yet and I figured that, seeing as I simply referred in the last piece to the creature as just that, I'd adopt that as a temporary title for this particular blog post.
Today was long, but good...in a way. There are some people in this world who I think are put in my path just to test and annoy me. The good news is, I keep passing said tests. This afternoon though I spent a lot of quality time with my good friend Sid. We had a proper catchup and 'man times' with pizza and anime, which is always a mood lifter. I've also had a proper long chat with my girlface, and she never fails to slide a smile on my face, regardless of my mood. This being said, I'm gonna leave it there, because you few who read this know I never intended this to be a personal blog. So, on with the story. I'm carrying on from yesterday, but in today's post I was going to experiment and look at the situation from the creature's eyes.
Sketh watched the giant pink thing as it clumsily fell backwards as if startled by his presence. Confused, Sketh measured his balance, shifting his weight backwards and holding his sword firm, but not tight, never tight. The large creature was possibly bigger than any wildling Sketh had seen before, and it seemed to have some sort of thrusting weapon in its giant hand. It moved a hand close to him
as if to prod or grab Sketh, but with a warrior's grace and finely honed reflexes, he swung and slashed at the giant's finger. Sketh recoiled backwards as a droplet of blood the size of his house fell to the surface. Red blood, like most of the wildlings Sketh had encountered when out exploring away from the Underlands. This surface world scard and confused, yet intrigued him more and more the more time he spent adventuring. The rest of the Underfolk thought him a fool with a deathwish for even considering stepping foot upon the surface realm; he'd heard some more giant wildlings refer to it as ''Er'thay''. Whilst the wildling recovered its composure, Sketh stared long and hard at it before sheathing his sword and clambering down the wooden structure he was stood upon. He'd seen more wood in a single wildling structure than in an entire Underland forest. He hit the floor with a thud, noticing that it was made of some sort of threaded fibre, artificially coloured and laid upon what he only assumed to be more wood. He ran as fast as he could to hide beneath the metal structure next to the wooden one as it was large and sheltered, and the wildling would never be able to fit and persue.
Feeling safe for the moment, Sketh sat to catch his breath. He set his sword beside him and looked at the mountainous formations around him. They seemed to be some form of containment device, like chests, but much larger. He was still overwhelmed by his last encounter, so exploring wildling storage was the last thing on his mind right now. He glanced over from behind one of these containers to search for the wildling. It was still out there, pacing and peering beneath this cavern to try and find him. Sketh frowned. Getting back to the underland would be tough at this rate. Perhaps this time, he'd ventured too far for his own good, he mused. The elders must be worried about him. It had been almost a whole week since he had left the borders. Sketh glanced to the amulet he wore around his neck; it had been a gift from his Housemaster. The elders said the same about him that they did of Sketh, "A head full of dreams and feet full of wanderlust, a heart that yearns for adventure that will lead to naught but grief." The elders had been right about Housemaster. Sketh remembered the day that Housemaster Jalfew last left the Underlands; Jalfew was the whole reason that Sketh became an explorer; he had always been tought from a young age that if something was worth dreaming about, then it was worth persuing, that was Jalfew's mentality, and Sketh had vowed to make it his own, but now he wasn't so sure. Now he had a feeling of what might have happened to Jalfew, why the Housemaster never returned from that journey. He stood and took up his sheathed blade once more, fastening it back to his belt. Resolving himself, he strode further into the range of mountainers, as he'd decided to refer to them, though he could not shake the thought of just how many of his kin would actually miss him if he weren't to return...
I can't think of much more tonight, it's been a brain frying sorta week so far, so I'm fresh out of inspiration for now. Hope you enjoyed it though! Feedback is always welcome, though rarely received sadly... Ah well.
Adios for now!
Craiggy.
:)
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