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Thread: Prompt #1 - "Don't you have a country to run?" (September '18)

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    Default Prompt #1 - "Don't you have a country to run?" (September '18)

    September's 1st prompt is
    "Don't you have a country to run?"





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    The wind brought the heat of the sand along with its cool touch. It curled around him like a friend and he smiled in the shadow of his hood as the wind played with the hem of his cloak. He waited till the wind moved on, pulling gently at him and encouraged him to follow.

    He lifted his foot from the sand where it had sank just a bit and started to follow.

    The sun flickered high above for a long time. He barely noticed as his shadow went from behind him to in front of him, trading places with the sun. As he crested the first roll of the land that was stone rather than sand, the wind's touch had turned colder, bringing with it the promise of night.

    He turned to look towards the setting sun, watching as it touched the horizon and started to sink below.

    The rolling sands were coming to life for the brief moment between burning day and freezing night. Creatures he could only fathom drifted among the dunes a stark darkness against the brilliant sunset. Some moved ever so slow that they seemed like the shadows of traveling dunes rather than a separate thing. Others moved with such speed that he marveled at their ability to move such in the dying light of the sun.

    The last of the sun disappeared beneath the horizon's edge and the wind brought him the cold air of night and the heat still rising from the sands. He took a breath when it brushed against his face. It smelled of heat and cold, of sand and rock. He opened his eyes, turned, and started walking again.

    The wind pulled at him gently, coaxing him on even as night rested heavily on his shoulders like the day never did. He tore his gaze from the path ahead of him to the horizon like, seeking a light he knew should be there soon.

    He stumbled. His gaze flickered down out of trained habit. When his eyes came back up when his feet were on surer ground, the light he had been seeking had risen into the sky. The horizon released its hold on the moon and he smiled at it from the depths of the darkness in his hood. Night's weighed eased some as the moon accompanied the wind in coaxing him on.

    The first ruins appeared when his shadow was coiled tightly under him at the moon's beckoning. He didn't stop but his footfall became more rapid, more sure. This way and that he weaved, eyes now searching for something that should be there, that had been promised to him.

    She was sitting on what had once been a stone wall several stories tall; the sand had buried most of that height on the side he approached. Beyond the edge, though, he could see the drop into the vast valley below. It was a sheer drop for far too many stories and the ruins at the base of that sheer drop spoke of the ground suddenly sinking long after the buildings had become ruins but not so soon that the sand hadn't come and buried most of the deep valley with a good amount of sand.

    He stepped up to her side and sat on the wall's edge only to swing his legs over and sit facing the same way she was.

    The wind danced around them and he smiled, catching sight of her auburn hair getting caught up in the wind's dance like a halo of moonlit fire behind her peaceful expression. The shadow of his hood was thick but he knew she would be aware of his eyes on her; the only thing that ever seemed to cut through that darkness was the light of his eyes.

    She didn't speak and he kept on watching her hair dance with the wind.

    The shadows from the moonlight were long, stretching towards the horizon they faced as the horizon slowly changed. He briefly wondered if she could perceive its change, too.

    She shifted on that edge, farther forward that he was comfortable and it was instinct that had his fingers ensnaring the back of her vest. An edge of her cloak slipped free from where she had it bundled beneath her and snapped behind her like a colorless flag. She smiled at him as her weight shifted back.

    "You don't have to catch me, you know."

    He found it difficult to let go now that he knew she was solid. Something deep in his chest burned and her words hurt in a way he would never be able to articulate properly.

    "I'm not sure I could let you go a third," he spoke poorly, his hand curling into his chest. Two others covered it as he placed his weight into the one gripping the wall between their hips. All four of his hands were as sharp as stars in the shadows of his body and the surrounding hills.

    She chuckled and the wind slowed till it was barely touching her hair and his face. She covered the hand between them, her sand darkened skin muted in the half light and nearly as dark as the stone they sat on compared to his starlight white. "Then don't."

    She slipped from the edge of the wall, cloak tightly grasped in her other hand and a grin lighting up her face. Despite not being physically attached to his body, her sudden weight still pulled him off the wall and he wrapped his three other hands around her one, hanging on desperately as the wind rushed passed them filled with her glee. It pulled at him and pulled at his hood, ridding him of its shadow.

    The stone shifted to sand and the sand created a drift that her feet touched first. His touched it farther down than hers but they were against that wall of sand long before it curved towards the valley. They slid down the drift of sand till it leveled out to the point that she was forced to take a few bounding steps to keep her balance at the change in momentum. His footfall wasn't quite as sure as hers and he stumbled. Her hold was sure, though, and he remained upright enough to come to a stop before her.

    "Must you?" he gasped out despite lacking the need to breathe. His entire being thrummed in a way that confused him and he wasn't sure if it was fright or exhilaration that pounded through him so.

    She laughed. The sound was melodious in its strange way, and oddly contagious. He found himself joining her even if it was just a few suppressed chuckles that were probably more out of his fried nerves than whatever she was feeling.

    "Always," she answered, her breathes rushing into her heaving lungs. Her auburn hair that had whipped like the cloak still clutched in her hand looked fuller now that the wind had ran its fingers through it and tousled it about quite vigorously.

    Two of his hands left the one he was still clinging to and buried themselves in those tangled locks in an attempt to bring order back to her hair. She made no move to still his touch, to pull away, and that burning deep in his chest seemed to spread out like a glass ball shattering from the inside out.

    His touch did nothing to change the halo of hair around her face and he withdrew all the hands he could.

    She was still holding onto the one she had initially grabbed.

    "Why are you here?" she asked gently, her smile still prevalent and loving. It was like ice water had been poured into his center and that burning quickly turned to a sharp pain. "Don't you have a country to run?"

    "It does not need me," he offered in return, one white hand reaching up to brush against her cheek.

    She leaned into that touch with eyes closing for that beat of a moment. When her eyes opened, her eyes were looking into his. "You shouldn't abandon it for me. You're doing so much good right now."

    He recoiled from that. "Am I, though? Am I not just making things worse by running it?"

    Her smile returned but it was soft and still so full of love. "This is what has come of places that do not have your touch or the touch of others so I would say that you are doing quite well."

    "But you are not here with me."

    Her gaze dropped at that and she reached up covering his hand with hers. "And we both know that it's for the better."

    The first streams of sunlight broke past the horizon line without him realizing how close the sun had come to rising. It shone right through her, illuminating the sand, rocks, and ruins behind her without touching her. Her gaze turned towards the west but he didn't need to look - didn't want to look - to know that only his shadow would be stretched high up the face of sand and stone they had slid down.

    "I've stayed too long," she spoke evenly, like all she was doing was returning home for the brief time they would be apart.

    He did not have the same faith that she seemed to have in it being a brief separation.

    She reached up and despite appearing not solid, her hands wrapped around the edge and underside of what constituted as his head.

    Just as his hands were not physically attached to his body, neither was his head. His form had shoulders and the start of a neck. Floating above the base of a neck roughly where a normal human's head rested upon its neck was a white mass. It was similarly shaped to that of a skull without all the details and indents. Smooth and round coming to a rounded point as a sort of chin, the only thing on that white shape that had any sort of motion to it were his eyes. They were in the same place as human eyes but were more like two solid shapes painted onto the white surface, absolute in their color and able to change shape in order to communicate emotions. There was no mouth yet his speaking was interpreted like normal speech despite it being telepathy; it was still 'heard' in the same manner, the sound of it changing depending on the space and distance because that was how it was interpreted.

    Even now as she guided his head down to be level with his shoulders, his body moved to accommodate the motion. Her lips pressed against his forehead and he let his eyes close, feeling like he was breaking all over again.

    "I'm so proud of you," she offered as she pressed their foreheads together. "I can't wait to see you again so keep doing good so that you can tell me all about it when we see each other again."

    A choked sob shook his body and all four hands hit the sand just as hard as his knees did. Despite no lungs to breathe, despite not being physically similar to humans in any way beyond vague shape, he cried with tears just like they did and felt the pain of grief probably more sharply than they did.

    Humanity had left its mark on him and it hurt. He let that hurt turn into wails as the sun rose higher into the brilliantly blue sky.
    Find a tale or three or five to read but be warned. It is never easy to see where the plot may be going As the Story Crumbles

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