Visual Dare: Peeking

The statues carved into every tree and stone peered down at Daurian, forbidding his advance into the Vitasbæn Woods.  Most of them were large and commanding, some were small and eldritch, and a few looked like frightened children.  As he passed each one, he examined their faces – the spiderwebs in their mouths and empty eyesockets, the moss clinging to their cold skin, and the dead leaves caught in the deep crevices of their bodies. 

Beside Daurian, Borisdar’s movements were rigid.  Drismatir tried to calm the horse’s unease, but her own agitation prevented such success.  The horses of Kieran, Lyreth, and Lorendel – who led the procession – were even more nervous.  

Narri’s brows were beetled, his eyes narrow, and his breaths short.  He allowed Daurian to come up beside him and said, “I feel as if the statues’ eyes are trained on us.”

Drismatir interjected, “They are gargoyles – their eyes are trained on you.  But they look not at your physical forms, but your spiritual.  They decide whether or not one deserves to pass through alive by scrutinising the soul.  If one is deemed unworthy, they will kill him.”

Visual Dare: The Odd Couple

I must use this image in one of two ways:

*Incorporate it into my current WIP - literally or figuratively
*Use it as a 100 word flash fiction to get the brain going in a different creative direction.

Elenora and Eris argued much; Elenora usually won.  Eris told himself that Elenora’s cat eyes, black hair, and gracefulness were not the only reason he married her, though her snobbish, fickle attitude was hard for him to ignore.  Elenora thought similarly of Eris.  He seemed always to flee at the first hint of Elenora. 

Elenora awaited Eris’ return, hoping to remind him of his wrongness.  He barged in and flew up the staircase to his laboratory; Elenora followed. 

“Drink this wine,” Eris said.  Elenora did and yowled like a cat as it burnt her throat.  Eris uttered a raven’s cackle.

Photo prompt courtesy of Anonymous Legacy's Visual Dare

Just A Few Words about Nothing in Particular

  Okay, so I've created a blog series separate from my "Spiel-blog" called "I Have Some Words for You..."  Originally, "Some Words" was just going to be about my current WIP (Work In Progress), but I wasn't careful and consistent with my topics, and it turned into a Spiel-blog.  However, his series will be exclusively about "Fables of the Kirmakor," my current WIP.  Not this post, though, because it's just an orientation.

  Those of you who read my first blog, which I neglected to name, have already had an overview of "Fables," so y'all are familiar with my ideas.  However, my story is ever-changing, always maturing and going in directions I never thought it would go, so y'all are going to have to unlearn some things as my story evolves (for instance, I've already taken Daurian's Orondíl-hood away from him...  Poor kid).  In fact, the only time I'm not contemplating the inner workings of my iceberg of a story is when I'm riding Atlas. When I'm riding is when all that goes through my mind is some song or other on an endless loop.

  Actually, y'all deserve a picture of Atlas, because he's a great horse, if a little stubborn and slow to love a person:

   Yes, he's my best bud.  If he and Saphira (from the Inheritance Cycle - I'm an Era-nerd) were competing for the Best Non-Human BFF Award, Atlas would win, hands down.  Saphira wouldn't touch him.  He has little to nothing to do with my story (though his name is used in my father's book, The Eye of Telerion), I just thought y'all should meet him.  :)

  That's all I have for y'all for now.  Y'all should be proud - I didn't go on a rant this time!  I'm determined to make this blog a no-rant zone.

  My dear Atlas...  He carries the world upon his shoulders.  He's too fat to shrug though...  Sorry Miss Rand...