Flashback House of Water

Wherein Woath visits his favorite place.

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Built high in the massive branches of Taldera's bloodwood forest, The Spires is a city crafted by the peaceful and scholarly Jamoura. Considered a haven for scholars and sages Mizahar-wide, The Spires is a mecca of philosophy and science that draws people from far and wide with its promise of deeper thinking and higher reasoning.

House of Water

Postby Woath on December 14th, 2012, 12:58 am

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2nd of Summer 512 A.V.


The expansive, living canopy of the Spires draped much of the devastated city in a cloak of fog and shadow, interrupted at points with rays of sunlight that slowly fought to gain ground over the forest floor deep below. That was where Woath plodded forth into the outskirts on his four limbs.

The destruction wrought by the Djed Storm had rendered his family homeless for the time being. Although much in the way of materials were lost, this didn't trouble him to the point where he would ire. From the wreckage of his family hall, he'd managed to preserve a prized tome that was given to him by his grandsire, a collection of wisdom far past, dating to just a few years A.V.. His heart was glad for the survival of his treasure, and further, the offer of discounted housing granted him the opportunity to stake his own claim on the city's beleaguered housing districts. There was promise in the air as he made his way to his favorite spot on the outskirts, to celebrate the day of his birth in meditative solitude, as was his custom.

The leaves and branches crunched sweetly beneath his hands and feet as the avian and insectoid chorus drew an inviting beacon to the deeper forest, but Woath knew he must not delve far. The Jamoura, mighty as they might be, were no match for the dangers of the deep wilderness on their own. Many careless had come this way before him, and many never to return.

As he went forth into the deeper brush, a sap-filled branch snapped beneath his hind foot, his nostrils flaring as he caught the sugary scent that wafted from the broken bough. He began to spot the local flowers from a few yards off, certain to keep an eye for the sinister breeds that if so much as inhaled could kill even a healthy Jamoura.

He crawled forth into a thick grove of trees, squeezing his shoulders to push past them and into the familiar path to his place of solitude. The way was well worn, as his days had been spent more and more in the solace of these environs. As his hands and feet pulled him over the leafy terrain, he thought he caught a sound alien to the ambience of the forest. He crouched on the ground for a moment, unmoving. He thought the choir of bugs and birds had halted for a few spans, then just as swiftly resumed. After a few more moments waiting, he heard nothing that struck him as out of the ordinary and continued on his way.

His path stretched for several miles out from the core Petals of the Spires, through which he was granted a myriad of sights and sounds. The song of a Spirian Courier joined the Forest Choir as he reached the final approach to his sanctuary. Within a few spans of the site, he began wondering if he'd find any of his kind, or lesser-kind there. Of course, he wasn't the only Jamoura to frequent such rests as lay outside the city bounds, and was willing to share the tranquility of the water if he must. Though he'd always been bashful as a youngling, Time and Interest had a way of drawing him out and defeating his reclusive inclinations.

An hour into his hike, he arrived at the object of his sojourn. A large pond rested just ahead of him, within a depression in the forest floor. Large trees stood on all sides just feet from the shores of the pond, growing large, and hanging the progeny of their boughs over the placid waters. Blossoms of every color burst from the leaves, dropping their petals onto the waters. The pond had great lily pads floating in them, and experience recalled to Woath that they could support even the weight of a Jamoura. He had many fond memories of laying claim to these mammoth floaters, planting toy flags in their green flesh as a newly discovered continent over which he and his siblings claimed royalty. At other times they became grand vessels built to carry beings, such as those that rowed and sailed the great ponds that bordered the ends of the earth.

As he came to the edge of the water, he planted himself there, looking on the calming scene in silent reflection, drinking in the sights, smells, and sounds. His breathing evened as he felt the great singularity of every living thing within their own place.
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Woath
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Joined roleplay: December 13th, 2012, 2:59 am
Race: Jamoura
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