| Welcome to Burnt Leaves |
[Nov. 22nd, 2006|05:56 pm] |
She caught the flame with her hands.
Embers fell in her hair, the air parched and sucked dry of moisture, roared in her ears as the firestorm approached. She didn't flinch, didn't waver in her stance, even as holes were burnt into the soft green of her dress.
The flame bore down on her and she caught it with her hands.
It flickered angrily, licking at her skin, desperate to consume all before it. A gum, straining with the conflicting energies forced upon it, exploded to her left, splinters, sharp as knives were flung in all directions.
She flicked her wrist and the wooden spikes scattered, most consumed to ash before reaching the ground.
She caught the flame and tamed it.
She called the winds, ignoring their complaints, and demanded they carry the storm away. They argued. It was time for the forest here to burn.
She knew that. For the love of all, she had started the fire herself.
But that was before him.
Heat snaked up the sleeves of her dress, teased at her skirts. For a moment the material caught, a flicker of flame lost amongst the conflagration she held in place not metres in front of her. The sharp sense of burning skin and a thought extinguished the attempt.
Her hands wavered.
She screamed at the winds, her voice taken by roar, but her mental call clear and loud and determined.
Bring the rain.
No, it is time.
Bring the soul damned rain!
Welcome to Burnt Leaves
This journal contains the stories that create the universe of 'Of the Forest'. It is locked, but if you would like to read a little Australian fantasy, feel free to comment here to be added.
Nutty
(owner of said universe and the brain that created it) |
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