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Spirits
Supernova
- Joined
- May 6, 2013
The summers were humid, quite much so....
Partially drenched in water vapor, creating a large thick mist which often made it all the more unusual to breathe, due to it feeling as though one was taking a small shot of water into their mouth as they attempted to take a breath. It was unusual, however such was the norm. Equally much so to have hot afternoon rains during the calm of the summer. The sun breathing, if not whipping the thighs and bodies of the villagers with the intensity of its wrath and the cool rains providing a less than satisfactory relief.
Things seemed to be perfectly fine at first when the parents of a young boy first arrived to the Amazonian Jungles of South America. It was supposed to be merely a vacation, not the day which would haunt them for the rest of their lives. The infamous flashfloods of the Amazon rivers had caught them by surprise, it rocked their boat nearly smashing it to bits, however rather than do that, the river took their son, washing him down the river. The cold lashing current whipped him, keeping smaller pests away from him with its violence. It continued to make the boy its little slave until the current managed to thrust him into another strech of land, hidden from the rest of the world. Through a small passage under the water, near the foot of a waterfall, he was washed in then sucked through to the other side. It felt like a dream... For an instant he saw bright colorful plants, of every shape and size as though it were something out of a fairy tail or some sort of whimsical story of a world in the stars... He knew not of this land nor the creatures of these jungles
The Giant Water Serpent...Wekufe...and the most prominent of them all, the Amazons. The young boy after finally washing ashore to a small beach where the river lead into a large lax lake, warm and tender to the wounds he'd received whilst he was washed against the rocks and shells.
What's more, even after that, he was hunted by the wildlife of the alien forests of huge twisted mangrove like trees and mangled flowers. Hunted until several warriors intervened. He was saved, and taken in by these... 'women' using the term loosely. They were not entirely women, they were hermaphrodites, who'd never truly seen a FULL 'man' before.. Or rather never seen someone who lacked the female genitalia that they had. Even so, he was taken in by one who was in fact the main huntress of them. Shocking to say the least, however she practically babied him, as though there was some unknown charm to him aside from his soft pale skin, and his long well tended to hair. He loved his new mother, though saddened by the loss of his old parents, he couldn't return, not anymore, he didn't remember where he washed up from and he doubted anyone really did either.
Now having grown to a young adolescent, he had a very tender and gentle demeanor, though slightly playful, he never meant anyone harm. He was generous, practically an angel, despite some of the scars he bore from having to help out around the village. He now sat in his family's hut, attempting to repair an old set of pelts which he had fashioned into a sort of robe which he wore to conceal his entire form. Of course this puzzled many as they wore...practically nothing at all, however now Sallen, or 'Sal' as most refered sat in his small pelt bed tending to his robe, his long legs crossed, his soft skin lightly shining in the minimal sunlight, his dirty blonde hair tied into a ponytail to keep it away from his eyes. His large brown eyes remaining focused on mending the robe. He tuned out all else... for the moment.
Partially drenched in water vapor, creating a large thick mist which often made it all the more unusual to breathe, due to it feeling as though one was taking a small shot of water into their mouth as they attempted to take a breath. It was unusual, however such was the norm. Equally much so to have hot afternoon rains during the calm of the summer. The sun breathing, if not whipping the thighs and bodies of the villagers with the intensity of its wrath and the cool rains providing a less than satisfactory relief.
Things seemed to be perfectly fine at first when the parents of a young boy first arrived to the Amazonian Jungles of South America. It was supposed to be merely a vacation, not the day which would haunt them for the rest of their lives. The infamous flashfloods of the Amazon rivers had caught them by surprise, it rocked their boat nearly smashing it to bits, however rather than do that, the river took their son, washing him down the river. The cold lashing current whipped him, keeping smaller pests away from him with its violence. It continued to make the boy its little slave until the current managed to thrust him into another strech of land, hidden from the rest of the world. Through a small passage under the water, near the foot of a waterfall, he was washed in then sucked through to the other side. It felt like a dream... For an instant he saw bright colorful plants, of every shape and size as though it were something out of a fairy tail or some sort of whimsical story of a world in the stars... He knew not of this land nor the creatures of these jungles
The Giant Water Serpent...Wekufe...and the most prominent of them all, the Amazons. The young boy after finally washing ashore to a small beach where the river lead into a large lax lake, warm and tender to the wounds he'd received whilst he was washed against the rocks and shells.
What's more, even after that, he was hunted by the wildlife of the alien forests of huge twisted mangrove like trees and mangled flowers. Hunted until several warriors intervened. He was saved, and taken in by these... 'women' using the term loosely. They were not entirely women, they were hermaphrodites, who'd never truly seen a FULL 'man' before.. Or rather never seen someone who lacked the female genitalia that they had. Even so, he was taken in by one who was in fact the main huntress of them. Shocking to say the least, however she practically babied him, as though there was some unknown charm to him aside from his soft pale skin, and his long well tended to hair. He loved his new mother, though saddened by the loss of his old parents, he couldn't return, not anymore, he didn't remember where he washed up from and he doubted anyone really did either.
Now having grown to a young adolescent, he had a very tender and gentle demeanor, though slightly playful, he never meant anyone harm. He was generous, practically an angel, despite some of the scars he bore from having to help out around the village. He now sat in his family's hut, attempting to repair an old set of pelts which he had fashioned into a sort of robe which he wore to conceal his entire form. Of course this puzzled many as they wore...practically nothing at all, however now Sallen, or 'Sal' as most refered sat in his small pelt bed tending to his robe, his long legs crossed, his soft skin lightly shining in the minimal sunlight, his dirty blonde hair tied into a ponytail to keep it away from his eyes. His large brown eyes remaining focused on mending the robe. He tuned out all else... for the moment.