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Chaos swept across the material world, and the ripples hit the Tree of Life like tidal waves. The Tree had never known a moment of peace in all its eternal existence, but this was a moment of exceptional cacophony throughout its branches, as all the spirits and totems of nature convened in a great meeting.
“It is a plague!” howled Wolf, a mixture of rage and sorrow. “My packs fall one after another, furless and rotting in the dirt with all the meat still on their bones.”
“No! A toxin!” cried Turtle. “I’ve seen the rivers turn green and black with pure death, watched countless fish choke on water as though it was pure poison.”
Still, Stag had another suggestion: “A predator. I’ve seen the beast with my own eyes, devouring my children or simply slaughtering them for the game of it.
Lion theorized a God, and Hyena supported the claim, marking the first time that the two had ever been unified. Hawk and Rabbit both agreed that the threat was fast and wily, and when the oft-loathed Viper proclaimed that they had to do something about it, not a single creature dissented. For the first time in the history of existence, the entire Kingdom of the Wild was bound by a unifying cause.
“Yes,” hissed a voice from the shadows, and at once there was silence. Everyone knew that voice. She who was Death had joined them, and she watched from the darkness with dozens of malformed eyes, still perched in her webs between the worlds. “I have seen this threat before, in other planes. I have watched entire planets wiped clean into balls of dust before the atrocities that you now face, and I have heard their names whispered in nightmares across the multiverse.” On the shiny black legs of a spider, she crept forth into the clearing under the branches of the World Tree, and clicked her mandibles together in excitement. “They are called Humans. And your war has just begun.”
“It is a plague!” howled Wolf, a mixture of rage and sorrow. “My packs fall one after another, furless and rotting in the dirt with all the meat still on their bones.”
“No! A toxin!” cried Turtle. “I’ve seen the rivers turn green and black with pure death, watched countless fish choke on water as though it was pure poison.”
Still, Stag had another suggestion: “A predator. I’ve seen the beast with my own eyes, devouring my children or simply slaughtering them for the game of it.
Lion theorized a God, and Hyena supported the claim, marking the first time that the two had ever been unified. Hawk and Rabbit both agreed that the threat was fast and wily, and when the oft-loathed Viper proclaimed that they had to do something about it, not a single creature dissented. For the first time in the history of existence, the entire Kingdom of the Wild was bound by a unifying cause.
“Yes,” hissed a voice from the shadows, and at once there was silence. Everyone knew that voice. She who was Death had joined them, and she watched from the darkness with dozens of malformed eyes, still perched in her webs between the worlds. “I have seen this threat before, in other planes. I have watched entire planets wiped clean into balls of dust before the atrocities that you now face, and I have heard their names whispered in nightmares across the multiverse.” On the shiny black legs of a spider, she crept forth into the clearing under the branches of the World Tree, and clicked her mandibles together in excitement. “They are called Humans. And your war has just begun.”
Literature
Panhassett
in my mind is another country running wide-open in the snow, sun, and rain it's old to us in the world but it's new just the same vibrant vintage melodies of laughter, love, and pain tall grass grows at the edge of town hiding the rails that run away forever a whitewashed shack stands by a sycamore grove exuding straw-strewn silence from its dusty heart a water tower stands at the east end of town a windmill stands at the west the blades carve the sun going down loneliness runs like blood on the ground on Friday afternoon the wind came around rawboned and dry wending mid the pines hello old son it's been many moons since last we spoke- said the wind as he caressed a longhorn skull bleached white from the sun yes it has I replied- my voice a scarf of blue grey smoke the wind spoke in shadows- of dappled Iowa poplars of Kansas City railheads of Powder River coal drags of empty two-lane blacktop in Nevada of an abandoned farmhouse on the
Literature
For Nice.
A strong Oak stands alone amid the hedgerow. Watching over this season's final yield of wheat. The last stage of the crop rotation. No more than a hardy grass, yet sufficient sustenance no less, for those that tend to the field. I note a ring of scarlet poppies circling the wheat. A blood-stain border, soaking the outer edges of the field. Speckled also, in amongst the crop, in that same sporadic pattern seen in blood splatter. A metaphor for the sacrifices made in ensuring that the village stays fed perhaps? Or perhaps, an aesthetic. Planted by the farm hand with little to no particular reasoning, other than just, well, for nice. The dog grows impatient, pulling at his lead as though to say that sometimes things just are, that I ought not to ponder on them for too long, lest I rob them of their inherent beauty. I scratch him behind the ears in agreeance. "good boy, lets get you home".
Literature
uselessly lamenting the state of things
Oh hell I could have been halfway to nowhere by now the rain fell over the hills and vanished becoming blades of grass or yellow flowers again I am desperate to get out of my body the habits of hurting are wearing me down my data is corrupted I know crazy peace where was I when the rain fell over the hills —I was leaving again I need to fall in love insanely there is no other way I dream up a thousand unsatisfactory men and kill them all. This week the world is ending and I am running out of laundry pods. How long do you love something before you stop. Still I know this bus route like the back of my hand—Stray is in my nature. Do you dare To say something is good. To say something is worth loving where the rain goes after it falls over the hills that’s where I'll be there was a time I wanted nothing more than to make beautiful things now I just want to become one before I die
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Flash-Fic-Month July 21, 2016
No challenge today
I kinda used my own prompt from a few years ago, which was something like "The animals have returned, and they want their planet back." I mean really, I guess I just used the age-old trope of man versus nature, but yeah. Also, inspired by Neil Gaiman and his depiction of the World Tree in Anansi Boys. Obviously this spider is a little bit different than that one. I dunno if anyone remembers Sabela, but she wouldn't have been happy if I did a whole July without mentioning her.
Aaannyyyywwwaaaayyy! Viva!
No challenge today
I kinda used my own prompt from a few years ago, which was something like "The animals have returned, and they want their planet back." I mean really, I guess I just used the age-old trope of man versus nature, but yeah. Also, inspired by Neil Gaiman and his depiction of the World Tree in Anansi Boys. Obviously this spider is a little bit different than that one. I dunno if anyone remembers Sabela, but she wouldn't have been happy if I did a whole July without mentioning her.
Aaannyyyywwwaaaayyy! Viva!
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