Character Name: Pierian
Character Class: Druid
Character Level: 91
Player Age: 22
Most Recent Guild: N/A
Requested Role: Chaser
Character Notes: Pierian is a Worgen Druid, twenty-two years old; he has bright blue eyes that are constantly moving and taking in his surroundings. Pierian’s hair is a dull red, and his physique betrays a life of hard labor.
Pierian was born in Gilneas. He never knew his parents, but he was told they were members of the Rebellion against the rightful King. Pierian was found in the aftermath of a raid against a once-secret rebel outpost within the walls of Gilneas. He spent much of his youth as a ward of the King. He was placed in the care of a family of engineers, constantly working on maintaining and improving the great wall surrounding Gilneas, who were unable to have children of their own.
Pierian’s childhood was spent with a patient, loving family. He would often accompany his parents to the wall. He loved to look out at the enormous world beyond the wall; it both excited and terrified him that there was so much out there. One day when he was in his mid-teens he was sitting in class, learning about the new and encouraging discovery in the field of botany (some person somewhere had discovered how to grow plants without soil: hydroponics) when there was a knock on the door. The teachers and students alike had become quite familiar with this sound, and every day they waited with a cold sense of dread climbing up their backs. These knocks were a daily occurrence, and they never brought good news. Knocks rang out down the south hall as well as the north.
Immediately upon hearing the knock at the door, the students straightened. This was not out of any care for propriety. They were rigid with fear, worry spread across their faces. Mr. Cohen’s face morphed from his typical warm smile into a sad grimace as he looked at his students. Mr. Cohen walked to the door, opening it hesitantly. Outside the room stood two women in white dresses with aprons, on their shoulders as well as at the bottom of their aprons were bold red crosses. These crosses, which represented aid and healing, had taken on an entirely new meaning to the students since the Civil War had broken out. To the students, the red cross was something to be feared.
Mr. Cohen spoke briefly with the women in hushed whispers before he ushered them into the room. As he did, his eyes swept across the classroom, hesitating for the briefest of moments when they met Pierian’s eyes. This was a common occurrence, and Pierian was used to it. The entire school knew Pierian’s parents had been rebels, so every day when the knocks came he was the recipient of many hateful looks. Every day he made somebody’s list, having done nothing to receive it. The world wasn’t fair, and of all the people in it, children were the least fair of all.
Pierian’s only friends were the teachers. They had taken a particular liking to him because of his unquenchable thirst for knowledge. Many had tried to hate him when he first came to the school, each of them having lost someone of his own, but after having him in their classes for just a short while they remembered that he was just a child, not one to be blamed for the sins of his parents.
As Mr. Cohen’s eyes met Pierian’s, his face contorted for the briefest of moments in a look of immense sadness. This wasn’t at all normal. Something was wrong. Mr. Cohen walked to stand behind his desk, his eyes now locked with Pierian’s, as the two women walked to the front of the class and pulled out a piece of parchment and read off a single name. The students in the room relaxed. Audible sighs of relief filled the room along with a few chuckles. Pierian wondered why no one was getting up and leaving with the women.
Every day they came to inform the students of those who had died in the skirmishes with the rebels. An intense glare from Mr. Cohen caused the chuckles to die instantly, but still no one went with the women.
“Pierian, ward of House Greymane, come with us child.”
This time the name registered. Pierian, without any conscious effort, and without intending to, rose from his seat, collected his things, and walked out of the room, the women flanking him, walking a step behind him on either side. Everything was surreal. The world was brought into sharp focus: everything he looked at had so much detail he felt as though he could just sit and study it forever and never learn all of its secrets.
As Pierian and his entourage reached the main office he was ushered into a side room. A man sat in a simple wooden chair, looking out a window at the birds playing in the garden outside. The women seated him in front of the man and left the room. Pierian wasn’t sure how long he sat there just watching the birds through the window. Eventually the man spoke.
“Earlier today a rebel outpost was raided. Something must’ve tipped them off, because when our men made it into the outpost they were pouring out the back door. Our men gave chase. The rebels went up on the wall; I have no idea what they were thinking. We control the wall; there was nowhere they could’ve gone. Eventually our men caught up with them and the rebels made their last stand... When it came down to their last man, he cast some sort of spell, blowing himself up as well as half of the unit that had been fighting them. The explosion damaged the top of the wall, not so much that anything could get in, but some of the debris fell inside the city. A large piece… Well, a large piece crushed your home. Your parents were inside… They’re dead.”
The next few days passed in a blur. Even now Pierian can’t remember everything that happened in the week following his parents’ death. Pierian, being sixteen, was an adult, but without a home and as a ward of the King, he was stationed with the laborers. His new life was spent working beyond the wall gathering herbs, food, and ores to fuel the industrial nation of Gilneas. Pierian quickly adapted to his new life and excelled at his duties. Whenever he and the other laborers went beyond the wall they were escorted by a unit of soldiers. Worgen had been running rampant outside of the wall for some time now.
The days, weeks, months, and years passed as Pierian worked his way up the ranks of the laborers. He became the foreman in just three years. He had made friends of the laborers. He loved his men and they loved him. This was his family now and he wouldn’t change a thing in the world. After three years he was voted into the position of foreman after the death of the previous foreman. The men in the labor house knew Pierian had what it took to be a foreman and when it came time to vote he was the obvious choice. He accepted the position happily. Pierian’s first year as foreman was the most successful year the laborer’s had ever seen. Productivity skyrocketed and there was a healthy supply of herbs and ores pouring into the city on a daily basis. He was something of a celebrity among those in the lower class. He did whatever it took to keep his men safe, to keep his people safe, and his people were all those in the lower classes. He often gathered far above his quota and he and his men would smuggle some of the excess past the guards to share it among his people.
It seemed a normal day beyond the wall. The men were working on a strong vein of copper, and the soldiers were alert and standing guard. As the night wore on, the men were making good progress on the vein. A couple more days and it would be dry, and then it’d be on to the next one.
“WORGEN TO THE SOUTH APPROACHING FAST!”
The guards drew their weapons as the laborers dropped their tools and began retreating towards the gate. The Worgen were too fast, the laborers wouldn’t make it back before the Worgen were on them. Pierian took a quick look around the camp, spotting the barrel of oil for refilling the lanterns; he leapt towards it shouting for a nearby set of guards to help.
“You two, help me get this open!”
The guards smashed open the top of the barrel.
“Now get to my men, I’ll set this off and then I’ll follow!”
The guards took off after the laborers, not questioning him. Pierian grabbed a nearby lantern and started after the guards. As the Worgen reached the worksite, only about ten yards behind him, he threw the lantern at the barrel of oil. The worksite went up in flames. Many of the Worgen were engulfed in flame, but two made it past, their focus entirely on Pierian. Seeing this and seeing that his men were still a good thirty seconds away from the gate, Pierian ran towards the woods, hoping to draw them away from his men. As he made it into the tree line, he watched the gate open and his men get inside. Pierian ran for his life, but he was no match for the worgen. He was running headlong past a tree when he felt something heavy land on his back and he felt claws dig into him, as well as an intense burning in his left shoulder and right calf as the worgen bit into him.
“AROOOOOOOOooooo…”
A howl came from nearby, then another, and another, soon a chorus of howls surrounded him on three sides, he felt the burning in his shoulder and calf stop and the weight rise off his back as he passed out.
Pierian woke in a cave, with the overwhelming odor of… wet dogs? He looked around, and saw a silhouette in the mouth of the cave: a great wolf sitting, looking right at him. He rose to a sitting position, and looked right back at the wolf. The two of them sat there for what felt like an eternity before he heard a voice in the back of his head.
“You were attacked by Worgen. My pack and I saved you.”
Pierian gasped in shock, after a few moments he gathered his thoughts and asked
“Who are you?”
“My name is Kiba.”
“I am Pierian, thank you for saving me.”
The wolf walked slowly over to him.
“I’m afraid our timing could’ve been better. You’ve been bitten.”
“Yes, it seems I have. But regardless you saved my life. Why?”
The wolf tilted its head to the side
“Because, you are one of us.”
This surprised Pierian. A look of confusion spread across his face.
“What do you mean? I’m no wolf.”
“No, that you aren’t, but you might be.”
Hearing this just added to Pierian’s confusion.
“What do you mean?”
“You have the gift.”
Pierian just stared dumbly at the wolf, obviously having no clue what he meant.
“You have the gift of adopting different forms; a fox, a wolf, a squirrel, only time will tell what shapes you’ll take. You have the gift to change your form. If you survive the bite I will teach you how to control your gift as well as your curse.”
With that the wolf turned and left the den.
Pierian spent the next few days recovering in the cave. On the fourth day he developed a fever. Nightmares of his flight from the worgen ravaged his mind; he tossed and turned in his feverish dreams. As the worgen pounced on him, his perspective changed. He was no longer the man being leapt on, but the worgen. The man beneath him screamed in terror as Pierian’s teeth sank into his neck, ripping out his throat. The man’s face a grimace of pain and terror, as a gurgling wheeze came from his open throat.
“AAAHHHHhh!”
Pierian woke with a scream, the image of the man dying still fresh in his mind. After a few moments his mind settled and the images faded. He was in the cave, no man to be seen, but the wolf was back.
“My pack and I must leave; in fact the pack has already left. I have remained behind to fulfill my promise. You have survived the change. It is time for you to learn.”
The wolf looked to Pierian’s side. Pierian followed his gaze to a book, bound in leather and well worn.
“What is this?” he asked as he looked back to the mouth of the cave. Nothing. The wolf was
gone.
Pierian, being left alone, picked up the book and began reading. No matter what page he turned to, they all contained the same words.
“A little learning is a dang'rous thing;
Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring:
There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain,
And drinking largely sobers us again.
Fir'd at first sight with what the Muse imparts,
In fearless youth we tempt the heights of Arts,
While from the bounded level of our mind
Short views we take, nor see the lengths behind;
But more advanc'd, behold with strange surprise
New distant scenes of endless science rise!
So pleas'd at first the towering Alps we try,
Mount o'er the vales, and seem to tread the sky,
Th' eternal snows appear already past,
And the first clouds and mountains seem the last;
But, those attain'd, we tremble to survey
The growing labours of the lengthen'd way,
Th' increasing prospects tire our wand'ring eyes,
Hills peep o'er hills, and Alps on Alps arise!”
Pierian read this passage over and over again trying to decipher its meaning. Each time he did the back of this throat felt drier and drier, and soon he found he could barely breathe his thirst was so great. He began looking around the cave and noticed something he hadn’t before. Towards the back of the cave he saw an opening, small and between two walls. It looked as though he might be able to fit through it sideways. As he approached it he heard dripping. Water!
He quickly made his way down the passage. It seemed to take hours. Eventually he could see an opening and he managed to squeeze through the last bit of the passage and into the cavern. It was a large room with a single stalactite hanging from the ceiling centered above a large pool of water. Peering in, he couldn’t see the bottom. Overwhelmed by thirst he dropped to his knees and shoved his head into the water, drinking deep the sweet crystal clear water. Immediately his mind began racing. He pulled his head out of the water but kept his lips to it, still drinking. As the water ran off his head and hit the surface he could see his face in the rippling water. First he was a babe, then a boy, a man, a worgen, then he saw the wolf as it dipped its snout to the pool. He watched as it transformed from a wolf into a man, and the image faded, then he saw something even stranger still, a great cat, but it was overlaid with his own reflection. It blinked as he did. When he wiggled his nose it did the same. Then it suddenly shifted to a great bear, and again it blinked as he did. Then a stag, then a bird, then finally he saw some kind of water creature and again more of the same. He pulled away as he had finally drunk his fill. He moved away from the water and sat with his back to the cave wall. Images flashed through his mind: soaring through the air with great wings, prowling through the forest tail flicking side to side, catching fish from a river with great paws, running through an open field with a great rack atop his head, and finally swimming in a crystal clear lake playing with others.
He sat there for some time, amazed at all he had seen, invigorated by the waters Pierian stood. As he stared into the still waters much was revealed to him, he saw many things. Events that had taken place already and others that were yet to come, the spring revealed much to him. After several hours he stood and spoke but two words.
“I understand what you ask of me, I will do my duty.”
{}{}{}{}{}{}{}
“Now I think it's about time we get back, if we're late for dinner again your mother will have my head on a pike!" says a young man
"Father?"
"Yes, son?"
"Will you tell me another story tomorrow?"
"If you're good and don't give your mother any troubles when it comes time for bed, then yes."
A father and son rise from their seats on an old bench, and walk through the leaves of an old willow tree as the sun sets. They walk towards a small cottage nestled in the side of a hill, in the middle of a grove of young willows. A hearth-fire burns inside the homey cottage, light pouring through the windows bathing the grove in its warmth, their branches seeming to sit a little higher in the light, the child running ahead of his father reaches the porch and leaps into the arms of his mother as she rises from her rocking chair. "Welcome home little one, you're just in time for supper!" the boy's father wipes his hand across his brow in mock relief and the family all begin laughing as they make their way inside to eat, happy and safe in their peaceful willow grove.
Character Class: Druid
Character Level: 91
Player Age: 22
Most Recent Guild: N/A
Requested Role: Chaser
Character Notes: Pierian is a Worgen Druid, twenty-two years old; he has bright blue eyes that are constantly moving and taking in his surroundings. Pierian’s hair is a dull red, and his physique betrays a life of hard labor.
Pierian was born in Gilneas. He never knew his parents, but he was told they were members of the Rebellion against the rightful King. Pierian was found in the aftermath of a raid against a once-secret rebel outpost within the walls of Gilneas. He spent much of his youth as a ward of the King. He was placed in the care of a family of engineers, constantly working on maintaining and improving the great wall surrounding Gilneas, who were unable to have children of their own.
Pierian’s childhood was spent with a patient, loving family. He would often accompany his parents to the wall. He loved to look out at the enormous world beyond the wall; it both excited and terrified him that there was so much out there. One day when he was in his mid-teens he was sitting in class, learning about the new and encouraging discovery in the field of botany (some person somewhere had discovered how to grow plants without soil: hydroponics) when there was a knock on the door. The teachers and students alike had become quite familiar with this sound, and every day they waited with a cold sense of dread climbing up their backs. These knocks were a daily occurrence, and they never brought good news. Knocks rang out down the south hall as well as the north.
Immediately upon hearing the knock at the door, the students straightened. This was not out of any care for propriety. They were rigid with fear, worry spread across their faces. Mr. Cohen’s face morphed from his typical warm smile into a sad grimace as he looked at his students. Mr. Cohen walked to the door, opening it hesitantly. Outside the room stood two women in white dresses with aprons, on their shoulders as well as at the bottom of their aprons were bold red crosses. These crosses, which represented aid and healing, had taken on an entirely new meaning to the students since the Civil War had broken out. To the students, the red cross was something to be feared.
Mr. Cohen spoke briefly with the women in hushed whispers before he ushered them into the room. As he did, his eyes swept across the classroom, hesitating for the briefest of moments when they met Pierian’s eyes. This was a common occurrence, and Pierian was used to it. The entire school knew Pierian’s parents had been rebels, so every day when the knocks came he was the recipient of many hateful looks. Every day he made somebody’s list, having done nothing to receive it. The world wasn’t fair, and of all the people in it, children were the least fair of all.
Pierian’s only friends were the teachers. They had taken a particular liking to him because of his unquenchable thirst for knowledge. Many had tried to hate him when he first came to the school, each of them having lost someone of his own, but after having him in their classes for just a short while they remembered that he was just a child, not one to be blamed for the sins of his parents.
As Mr. Cohen’s eyes met Pierian’s, his face contorted for the briefest of moments in a look of immense sadness. This wasn’t at all normal. Something was wrong. Mr. Cohen walked to stand behind his desk, his eyes now locked with Pierian’s, as the two women walked to the front of the class and pulled out a piece of parchment and read off a single name. The students in the room relaxed. Audible sighs of relief filled the room along with a few chuckles. Pierian wondered why no one was getting up and leaving with the women.
Every day they came to inform the students of those who had died in the skirmishes with the rebels. An intense glare from Mr. Cohen caused the chuckles to die instantly, but still no one went with the women.
“Pierian, ward of House Greymane, come with us child.”
This time the name registered. Pierian, without any conscious effort, and without intending to, rose from his seat, collected his things, and walked out of the room, the women flanking him, walking a step behind him on either side. Everything was surreal. The world was brought into sharp focus: everything he looked at had so much detail he felt as though he could just sit and study it forever and never learn all of its secrets.
As Pierian and his entourage reached the main office he was ushered into a side room. A man sat in a simple wooden chair, looking out a window at the birds playing in the garden outside. The women seated him in front of the man and left the room. Pierian wasn’t sure how long he sat there just watching the birds through the window. Eventually the man spoke.
“Earlier today a rebel outpost was raided. Something must’ve tipped them off, because when our men made it into the outpost they were pouring out the back door. Our men gave chase. The rebels went up on the wall; I have no idea what they were thinking. We control the wall; there was nowhere they could’ve gone. Eventually our men caught up with them and the rebels made their last stand... When it came down to their last man, he cast some sort of spell, blowing himself up as well as half of the unit that had been fighting them. The explosion damaged the top of the wall, not so much that anything could get in, but some of the debris fell inside the city. A large piece… Well, a large piece crushed your home. Your parents were inside… They’re dead.”
The next few days passed in a blur. Even now Pierian can’t remember everything that happened in the week following his parents’ death. Pierian, being sixteen, was an adult, but without a home and as a ward of the King, he was stationed with the laborers. His new life was spent working beyond the wall gathering herbs, food, and ores to fuel the industrial nation of Gilneas. Pierian quickly adapted to his new life and excelled at his duties. Whenever he and the other laborers went beyond the wall they were escorted by a unit of soldiers. Worgen had been running rampant outside of the wall for some time now.
The days, weeks, months, and years passed as Pierian worked his way up the ranks of the laborers. He became the foreman in just three years. He had made friends of the laborers. He loved his men and they loved him. This was his family now and he wouldn’t change a thing in the world. After three years he was voted into the position of foreman after the death of the previous foreman. The men in the labor house knew Pierian had what it took to be a foreman and when it came time to vote he was the obvious choice. He accepted the position happily. Pierian’s first year as foreman was the most successful year the laborer’s had ever seen. Productivity skyrocketed and there was a healthy supply of herbs and ores pouring into the city on a daily basis. He was something of a celebrity among those in the lower class. He did whatever it took to keep his men safe, to keep his people safe, and his people were all those in the lower classes. He often gathered far above his quota and he and his men would smuggle some of the excess past the guards to share it among his people.
It seemed a normal day beyond the wall. The men were working on a strong vein of copper, and the soldiers were alert and standing guard. As the night wore on, the men were making good progress on the vein. A couple more days and it would be dry, and then it’d be on to the next one.
“WORGEN TO THE SOUTH APPROACHING FAST!”
The guards drew their weapons as the laborers dropped their tools and began retreating towards the gate. The Worgen were too fast, the laborers wouldn’t make it back before the Worgen were on them. Pierian took a quick look around the camp, spotting the barrel of oil for refilling the lanterns; he leapt towards it shouting for a nearby set of guards to help.
“You two, help me get this open!”
The guards smashed open the top of the barrel.
“Now get to my men, I’ll set this off and then I’ll follow!”
The guards took off after the laborers, not questioning him. Pierian grabbed a nearby lantern and started after the guards. As the Worgen reached the worksite, only about ten yards behind him, he threw the lantern at the barrel of oil. The worksite went up in flames. Many of the Worgen were engulfed in flame, but two made it past, their focus entirely on Pierian. Seeing this and seeing that his men were still a good thirty seconds away from the gate, Pierian ran towards the woods, hoping to draw them away from his men. As he made it into the tree line, he watched the gate open and his men get inside. Pierian ran for his life, but he was no match for the worgen. He was running headlong past a tree when he felt something heavy land on his back and he felt claws dig into him, as well as an intense burning in his left shoulder and right calf as the worgen bit into him.
“AROOOOOOOOooooo…”
A howl came from nearby, then another, and another, soon a chorus of howls surrounded him on three sides, he felt the burning in his shoulder and calf stop and the weight rise off his back as he passed out.
Pierian woke in a cave, with the overwhelming odor of… wet dogs? He looked around, and saw a silhouette in the mouth of the cave: a great wolf sitting, looking right at him. He rose to a sitting position, and looked right back at the wolf. The two of them sat there for what felt like an eternity before he heard a voice in the back of his head.
“You were attacked by Worgen. My pack and I saved you.”
Pierian gasped in shock, after a few moments he gathered his thoughts and asked
“Who are you?”
“My name is Kiba.”
“I am Pierian, thank you for saving me.”
The wolf walked slowly over to him.
“I’m afraid our timing could’ve been better. You’ve been bitten.”
“Yes, it seems I have. But regardless you saved my life. Why?”
The wolf tilted its head to the side
“Because, you are one of us.”
This surprised Pierian. A look of confusion spread across his face.
“What do you mean? I’m no wolf.”
“No, that you aren’t, but you might be.”
Hearing this just added to Pierian’s confusion.
“What do you mean?”
“You have the gift.”
Pierian just stared dumbly at the wolf, obviously having no clue what he meant.
“You have the gift of adopting different forms; a fox, a wolf, a squirrel, only time will tell what shapes you’ll take. You have the gift to change your form. If you survive the bite I will teach you how to control your gift as well as your curse.”
With that the wolf turned and left the den.
Pierian spent the next few days recovering in the cave. On the fourth day he developed a fever. Nightmares of his flight from the worgen ravaged his mind; he tossed and turned in his feverish dreams. As the worgen pounced on him, his perspective changed. He was no longer the man being leapt on, but the worgen. The man beneath him screamed in terror as Pierian’s teeth sank into his neck, ripping out his throat. The man’s face a grimace of pain and terror, as a gurgling wheeze came from his open throat.
“AAAHHHHhh!”
Pierian woke with a scream, the image of the man dying still fresh in his mind. After a few moments his mind settled and the images faded. He was in the cave, no man to be seen, but the wolf was back.
“My pack and I must leave; in fact the pack has already left. I have remained behind to fulfill my promise. You have survived the change. It is time for you to learn.”
The wolf looked to Pierian’s side. Pierian followed his gaze to a book, bound in leather and well worn.
“What is this?” he asked as he looked back to the mouth of the cave. Nothing. The wolf was
gone.
Pierian, being left alone, picked up the book and began reading. No matter what page he turned to, they all contained the same words.
“A little learning is a dang'rous thing;
Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring:
There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain,
And drinking largely sobers us again.
Fir'd at first sight with what the Muse imparts,
In fearless youth we tempt the heights of Arts,
While from the bounded level of our mind
Short views we take, nor see the lengths behind;
But more advanc'd, behold with strange surprise
New distant scenes of endless science rise!
So pleas'd at first the towering Alps we try,
Mount o'er the vales, and seem to tread the sky,
Th' eternal snows appear already past,
And the first clouds and mountains seem the last;
But, those attain'd, we tremble to survey
The growing labours of the lengthen'd way,
Th' increasing prospects tire our wand'ring eyes,
Hills peep o'er hills, and Alps on Alps arise!”
Pierian read this passage over and over again trying to decipher its meaning. Each time he did the back of this throat felt drier and drier, and soon he found he could barely breathe his thirst was so great. He began looking around the cave and noticed something he hadn’t before. Towards the back of the cave he saw an opening, small and between two walls. It looked as though he might be able to fit through it sideways. As he approached it he heard dripping. Water!
He quickly made his way down the passage. It seemed to take hours. Eventually he could see an opening and he managed to squeeze through the last bit of the passage and into the cavern. It was a large room with a single stalactite hanging from the ceiling centered above a large pool of water. Peering in, he couldn’t see the bottom. Overwhelmed by thirst he dropped to his knees and shoved his head into the water, drinking deep the sweet crystal clear water. Immediately his mind began racing. He pulled his head out of the water but kept his lips to it, still drinking. As the water ran off his head and hit the surface he could see his face in the rippling water. First he was a babe, then a boy, a man, a worgen, then he saw the wolf as it dipped its snout to the pool. He watched as it transformed from a wolf into a man, and the image faded, then he saw something even stranger still, a great cat, but it was overlaid with his own reflection. It blinked as he did. When he wiggled his nose it did the same. Then it suddenly shifted to a great bear, and again it blinked as he did. Then a stag, then a bird, then finally he saw some kind of water creature and again more of the same. He pulled away as he had finally drunk his fill. He moved away from the water and sat with his back to the cave wall. Images flashed through his mind: soaring through the air with great wings, prowling through the forest tail flicking side to side, catching fish from a river with great paws, running through an open field with a great rack atop his head, and finally swimming in a crystal clear lake playing with others.
He sat there for some time, amazed at all he had seen, invigorated by the waters Pierian stood. As he stared into the still waters much was revealed to him, he saw many things. Events that had taken place already and others that were yet to come, the spring revealed much to him. After several hours he stood and spoke but two words.
“I understand what you ask of me, I will do my duty.”
{}{}{}{}{}{}{}
“Now I think it's about time we get back, if we're late for dinner again your mother will have my head on a pike!" says a young man
"Father?"
"Yes, son?"
"Will you tell me another story tomorrow?"
"If you're good and don't give your mother any troubles when it comes time for bed, then yes."
A father and son rise from their seats on an old bench, and walk through the leaves of an old willow tree as the sun sets. They walk towards a small cottage nestled in the side of a hill, in the middle of a grove of young willows. A hearth-fire burns inside the homey cottage, light pouring through the windows bathing the grove in its warmth, their branches seeming to sit a little higher in the light, the child running ahead of his father reaches the porch and leaps into the arms of his mother as she rises from her rocking chair. "Welcome home little one, you're just in time for supper!" the boy's father wipes his hand across his brow in mock relief and the family all begin laughing as they make their way inside to eat, happy and safe in their peaceful willow grove.
Last edited by Helfeather on Mon Feb 23 2015, 19:21; edited 3 times in total (Reason for editing : Updated to Current Main Character)
