Post by The Great Prince on Mar 14, 2020 21:16:21 GMT
(February 5th, open to Geno and Gurri, late afternoon.)
The Forest was quiet. Well, quiet if it was being compared to it’s former state. Throughout his entire life and reign, Algo had experienced the realm’s loudest sounds in the form of mudslides, herd stampedes, or the panic of animalkind wrought by Man’s booming sticks.
That was before Mufasa and the Enchanted Suns came to stay. Now, when he closed his eyes, the feeling of heavy mammals running drills and assorted children tumbling against one another traveled through his hooves. The sounds of strange grunts, roars, and the odd clear ringing voices of Man drifted as fully as leaves in the wind against his ears. The smell of too many different species and their worlds crowded his nose.
It was enough to turn one’s fur grey.
But the Great Prince had spent most of his son’s life committing the sound, feeling, and scent of their allies to memory. This was still his Forest, and he was still it’s protector. Man...may not be the most vicious threat. For now. But if anything else unfamiliar were to come to disrupt the life that was becoming familiar and safe, it was his duty to notice and defend against it.
The Great Prince’s black nose twitched, and he halted his solemn stride through the cricket-chirping air. The rarest of smiles lifted his long cheeks. When the huge deer’s eyes opened, they were half-lidded tenderly.
In a forest full of surprises, it was a welcome spring breeze to feel the hoofbeats of his grandchildren approaching.
Instead of turning to face them, he picked up his legs and gracefully continued his walk, if a little more slowly. Would they come this way? Would they interrupt his march? There was a time when he would have avoided fawns to complete his rounds undistracted. Now, The Great Prince found his heart hoping to see the Bambi-like faces of Geno and Gurri in the sunset’s light.
Plague spot
The Forest was quiet. Well, quiet if it was being compared to it’s former state. Throughout his entire life and reign, Algo had experienced the realm’s loudest sounds in the form of mudslides, herd stampedes, or the panic of animalkind wrought by Man’s booming sticks.
That was before Mufasa and the Enchanted Suns came to stay. Now, when he closed his eyes, the feeling of heavy mammals running drills and assorted children tumbling against one another traveled through his hooves. The sounds of strange grunts, roars, and the odd clear ringing voices of Man drifted as fully as leaves in the wind against his ears. The smell of too many different species and their worlds crowded his nose.
It was enough to turn one’s fur grey.
But the Great Prince had spent most of his son’s life committing the sound, feeling, and scent of their allies to memory. This was still his Forest, and he was still it’s protector. Man...may not be the most vicious threat. For now. But if anything else unfamiliar were to come to disrupt the life that was becoming familiar and safe, it was his duty to notice and defend against it.
The Great Prince’s black nose twitched, and he halted his solemn stride through the cricket-chirping air. The rarest of smiles lifted his long cheeks. When the huge deer’s eyes opened, they were half-lidded tenderly.
In a forest full of surprises, it was a welcome spring breeze to feel the hoofbeats of his grandchildren approaching.
Instead of turning to face them, he picked up his legs and gracefully continued his walk, if a little more slowly. Would they come this way? Would they interrupt his march? There was a time when he would have avoided fawns to complete his rounds undistracted. Now, The Great Prince found his heart hoping to see the Bambi-like faces of Geno and Gurri in the sunset’s light.
Plague spot