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The Hunter

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[09 Feb 2003|10:02pm]
Shadow and light. Shadow and light in the air...and it smells...so bright...so bright...so hungry...I am so empty...there is not light here to feed my hunger...no purpose...abandoned...Mâchanumâz gave no purpose... *a keening wail suddenly rips through the valley south of the land of Ithilien*

Phanaikelûth...it burns so bright...so bright tonight...

*the shadows shift, lifting up as a hound smelling the air*

Light...Aþâraigas...it is in the air...one of them...I must find it...I have gone so hungry...empty...I am empty...ahhhhhh liiiight............no, do not run, small one... *cat-like purring*

This aþâraphelûn...so much light...so pure...so pure...unlike the tainted taste...cleansing it from me...impure...stained...*snarls, darkness boiling around, shadows of darkness ripping at the natural night* The memory of that taint remains...I will not forget such small one's lies...lies...impure...must not let impurity remain...staining...must not stain...must break open...release the stain...release the impurity...so wrong...so wrong to let it stay... *a muffled cry is suddenly silenced and the shadows sigh into the darkness with satisfaction* the light fills the air...ahhhhhh...so long...
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[05 Dec 2002|01:58am]
A whispered snarl under the light of a waning moon. Shadows shift and move, boiling like waves along the surface of a sea. A dark churning sea of blackness that hunts...and remembers mortal blood with the taste of light...and snarls again...and rages...and rages...
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And so it begins. [10 Oct 2002|12:10am]
Darkness returns to the land and the moon is covered in clouds. Gliding over the ground, a darkness that casts no shadow, absorbs what light is set upon it.

No words. Only this. Set upon, and I will obey unspoken words. They told me not what I must do, but I am here...I must...return what I gave...I must give...

A lone figure softly glows in the darkness of The Grey Havens, outside the gates.

Ah. Light. Contained. It must be freed, I cannot give you to be cared for in another place. I must free you then. Hush...quiet...peace...

A smile as it follows the lone elf who begins running quickly.

Do not run. All is well.

I have none to give you to. Father has not told me what I must do. But your fire burns so bright, so beautiful. Ah. Peace now.

It is near dawn. The daystar...too much light for me. This grass has many to give, I feel them all around. I will stay here and wait. This is a good place to be.

Leaves the body and drifts away to wait until the next dark.
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Aþâraphelûn Amanaišal [06 Oct 2002|09:10pm]
[ mood | returned ]

The shape of eyes, in a form that could be deemed human. Black, in the shape of eyes, moonlight sucked into the darkness, no reflection. A pool of black, infinite void.

Serenity on it's lips. Closed, full, it might be deemed beautifull if it were not for it seeming like a mask worn over...something. Haloed in glimmering light that slid off the form, unable to penetrate as it floated across the grass. The figures head twisted, turning where the pools of black for eyes looked across the valley. A soft sound passes between the lips as they open, air passing through a throat, through lungs that do not breath.


Dušamanûðân. Father...akašân...I am Dušamanûðân and so this soft grass rests in stillness and has for so...very long...I must bring the quickness...I remember the running...crackling light in the space between the grass and far above, before I fell upon them.

I must return. No word. The silence. Peace. This space is not known to me, with light that does not flee, only stands still above.

I miss that crackling light that would arc in the space between the dark grass and the space around and above.

Changed. I will move and wonder. Tulukastâz...I do not know if I have been freed by...that...but I must have purpose...I will bring that crackling light back perhaps...

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