are the dead really silent?
It is another new place, this world I have found myself in. It is not so much unlike birth, waking to find that the world is different around you once again. The spirits are different here, and they energy of the world is shifted. Things are not always as they seem, I know this. This place will surely only prove to teach it to me once more. The sights and smells lead me through a forest, the trees beginning to become alight with the changing of the season. It truly is my favorite, the time where everything is still so alive, even as you watch it die before your eyes.
My white paws crunch the few fallen leaves beneath them, snapping more pine needles instead. I step over the paths well worn by other wolves, some wolves more beasts than lupine. The trees around me speak of stories unspeakable, and the winds sing songs of lovers long lost to lust, and players who have played their last games. Earth shows signs of laughter springing from paws, and terrors raced across the terrain. Intrigued, I listen to what around me is saying, the voices of the those who live here, drowned out by the voices of those who lived.
They say those who truly loved a land never leave. They say those who truly love are always there. It was once said that honor ran deep, and loyalty was true. Some say some lie; liars say some speak truth. Voices can be heard, speakers often breath. True truth is found elsewhere. Reality is not always what it seems. The earth is real, and the earth is what I hold dear. Balance is all about who tipped the scales.
On the edge of the forest the terrain shifts to that of a valley. I look between the shifts of land through eyes that make the shades of the burning orange of the dying trees. One ear flicks and I inhale the sense of the valley before me. My mind shifted and I retreated back into the forest. There was a time and a place, but today the comfort of the trees around me called to me. Shadows fall over my cream and silver coat. Stepping from light to shadow I shift from nearly glittering to a hazy mist and back again. I step from the world of the dead to dance in the realm of the living.
If only the living were the ones to speak to me.
 lord; 4 falls; 41in/190lbs; fatelessXheartless; wandering ghost |