{ ♔ } swimming in the flood →

[Osheaga]

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    By the mossy folds of a grand oak tree, one that had seen many years, were two young children. Their minds were innocent, pure, devoid of images concerning war or racism, and hopefully would always remain as such. Their mother was nearby perched regally a top the oak tree's roots. Like a hawk she watched over her children, scanning the mangrove's water for predators that would cause them harm. The mangrove's sounds were soothing, like a song sung by the earth; a salute to the canopies and tree tops which were draped with oversized, stringy vines which fell in neat coils around the mangrove's shores. The instant she stopped to revel in the sweetness her home had offered to her, her offspring traveled out of her site, beyond the tree in which they played by.
    
    "O'mia! O'mia!" She shouted. No answer. The woman's tart sable eyes turned silver with fret while she scampered under the oak's trees arched root, through a nest of vines where she received a clear view of the shrouded river. All was silent save for the forest's singing; chirping of crickets and humming of unwordly creatures that dwelt within the marsh. She was fearful. Fearful that a creature stalking her little girls, or had snatched them up from the river bank. With the amounts of water slowly receding, creatures that relied on it for hunting became emaciated and irritable. They grew brazen and even began attacking the local villages. While this supplies the indigenous with countless supplies of food, it made them question what exactly it was that had driven these viscous predators so far from their homes.
    
    "Momma!" The siphon woman's eyes were wide with terror. What she had seen next was any parents worst nightmare. A monstrous reptilian creature had crept up from the murky rivulet with her child clutched tight in its powerful jaws. "O'mia!" When the creature disappeared below the shrouded surface the woman was left frantic. She parted the water with her hands, wading about, but the visibility was not to be desired. She cried; beckoned for her child while the other trembled along the shore side. "Please! Please!" She felt the bog beast's turgid tail brush against her ankle. In any other case, that would have been the end, the child whisked away by the reptile which was not uncommon in the mangrove's densest wing.
    
    There was no point to press on, to bother searching for her murdered child. The horned woman retired to the bank where the other traumatized child was laying still, unmoving, waiting for her sibling to surface. The mother knelt down to comfort her child, all the while sullying her sepia stained gown. Through her mother's embrace the dark-haired child peered at the water - ripples, several of them, then bubbles which rushed to the surface. "Momma!" she blanched, waving a feeble finger towards the river. It was there that waves began growing, lapping the shore from the center of the stream. Their size increase exponentially until the reptilian creature - which resembled an over-sized crocodile - surface. Its eyes were blank and jaw left ajar; her child no where in sight.
    
    Before the woman began to mourn, she took note of the muddled figure which effortlessly toted the reptile over its shoulders. A savior, perhaps? Undoubtedly some hunter skulking through the river in search of reptile hide, but her estimations were rather absurd considering what this being truly was. As it approached the shoreline she took note of its feminine frame. A sable, starless mane left clung to her face as globs of watery mud were subdued by gravity and cascaded down her neck and breasts. Effortlessly, she tossed the motionless crocodile next to the lamenting mother and child which were both taken aback by the tremendous girth of the beast. Before them, however, was something more astonishing. It was a woman. A beautiful woman. Within her dirty, jeweled hands was her child which she had clutched close to her breast.
    
    "O'mia!" the mother shouted. She trembled while collecting her child tight within her arms. "I'm so sorry." The little girl winced while she opened her bright blue eyes and peered up at her mother. Save for a handful of teethmarks on her backside and the mud staining her dark skin, she was virtually unscathed. The woman felt tears well in her eyes, tears of joy, knowing her child would live to see another day in the mangrove. "... thank you. Thank you. Thank you!" The other woman, who seemed unmoved by the emotional moment, disregarded the mother's appreciation. Her eyes were drab at first glance, but as the mother watched her, she took note of the hero's starless, stoic white eyes which told stories of raw, unadulterated horror. An acknowledging grunt from her mouth and she turned, left to return to the canopies where she watched over the people. "Again, thank you ... guardian."
    
    Hours later, when the sky grew dim and the moon's low light fell through the canopy's foliage, the "guardian" had found refuge. She waded about, bare, in a balmy rivulet in which she bathed. Unhealthy streams of brown mud fluttered in ribbons down the rivulet, being strained through a brambly bush a few meters ahead. She was please to purge her tanned flesh of the grime, her stark mane free of dirt and mud. When she was confident she was clean, she clambered up on a collection of large boulders near the roots of a mangrove tree. She winced at the slap of her wet flesh against the sedimentary but calmed with the warmth from the cloth she used to dry her body. Tonight would be the night she could return to the village; six months ago, she was banished for making the right choice, for saving a child but jeopardizing their village's locations to "outsiders". While slithering on her robes she reflected on her decisions, feeling her heart beat in her throat as the vehemence rushed back. Callow fools.[/list:u][/list:u]

 

[The Moronic Pillow]

Wind blew through the rocky paths of the large mountain. The home to many men and few women. The sun did tend to always shine, leaving the river down below to sparkle and shimmer as it made it's way to a larger body. The men were tall, dark skinned and dark eyed, like stones themselves with skin like diamonds. Though, they weren't visually beautiful, their skin was just hard, and usually tended to look rocky. Only few lucky men could be called incredibly beautiful, the strong ones would wear leather. Say that they were the best out of all Colossus.

One day, the wind seemed to have stopped whistling through the paths and trees that spotted the mountain. The few women that stayed with the men on the mountain to give birth to their children, were disappearing. Whatever it was, they knew they couldn't attack the men, for they couldn't be killed as easily. A troop would have to be sent out, a group of people. Though no one volunteered for the job. One man stood out from all the rest, the one with the most leather, they thought he could do it. Since he had always showed off his skill, he was capable right ?

The small group was sent out, and they returned a week later with nothing. What was out there ? Another man, one around eight foot six, dark hair, dark eyes and numerous runes, stood. Saying he could go out, search better and do it on his own. They laughed and gave him one measly spear. The man with just one small pair of cloth shorts took it and walked away.

The people of the village, the few women that were around prayed for his safe return. Thinking he would need it, but they gave up after four days. Having the feelings in their guts that the crazy man who went out to find whatever was wrong, was dead by now. Until, early one morning, they came out of their makeshift tents to see a man. The dark man, stained in blood with ropes tied around his waist and arms. Broken spear in his hands, he only had the sharp tip.

" Could it be ? ", the town elder, coming out of his small home, using a stick to keep himself up. Looking at the man who had finally made it to the middle of the area, cutting himself free from the large masses of fur behind him. The devilish creatures like over grown wolves, teeth coming from their mouths like saber toothed tigers. The things were nearly the size of bears, it looked like a family. One small, overly grown and one of natural size. They would be skinned, a great food source and warmth for later on in the window.

The man just looked at them, ignoring all of the cheering and congratulations. Grabbing onto the rope with the smallest beast, dragging it to his makeshift home. It was his, he left the bigger beasts to the village. Keeping the pointed tip of the spear to himself. It would be his knife, cutting the beast open, one of the only men who didn't take a human mate. The only one to have numerous runes and tattoos covering his body. Of course he would suspected once more to lead a group of men for future war purposes.

Not just one week later, the town elder had set up a group of men to go down to the Mangrove. There were questions that needed to be asked, most of the water was gone. Someone had re-summoned Dormin, and the Mangrove seemed like the only place to have all of their water. " Kota, we need you to lead them to the Mangrove. ". The man with dark hair and dark eyes just looked at the older man. Continuing to sharpen his knife, " We'll give you more weapons instead of one measly spear this time. ". The old man was practically begging, it must have been important. Kota stood, towering over the old and shrinking man, walking past him and out of his makeshift home.

The group was already there, as if they knew he was going to say yes. Kota looked at the elder and slid his knife into the strap on his leg. Grabbing one of the spears from a man and walking in the direction of the Mangrove. No need to say good bye, because there was no one to say it to.

Four days later, they were there. In the murky wet Mangrove that held numerous people. yet, when Kota looked around and searched, he couldn't find any. In the middle of crossing one of the bodies of water, he heard a low growling noise. Shushing the men, stopping them in the water, what was it making the bellowing noise ? It was loud...as if the thing were right next to them. Then it came up, probably standing on it's hind legs, a giant crocodile like beast. Tossing his spear, Kota managed to get one of the beast's eyes before being tossed into the water.

The men were in shock, their leader had left and they were stabbing at the water, searching for the beast that had taken Kota to his underwater grave. Then, the beast floated up to the surface, stomach cut open in a giant slit. The red made it's way out of the beast, and sadly, Kota was covered. Pulling his spear from the monster's eye and muttering a curse word under his breath. The men cheered and tugged the bloody other to the shore. Kota began to wash himself, looking around for the town. " Show your faces. " he yelled, first time speaking. Voice hard and low, shouting for someone to come out and show their face and lead him to the town.