KORBIN
And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,
That blushed and bloomed,
Hard eyes followed the fox as it retreated. Korbin would have greatly preferred if it just ran off, like a normal animal should have. It kept watching him, and the steady gaze grated on his nerves. He turned, shifting on his stool so he didn't have to look at it - a rather childish gesture - and turned his focus back to the fishing.
Inhaling, he sought that tranquile serenity again. Wanted to let the cold and the wind, the great emptiness settle his soul again... but peace evaded him.
There was a tug on the line. Then another. With a practiced jerk of a wrist, Korbin yanked the fishing rod, felt resistance in the new weight on it, and began to haul the line back up. There were three hooks attached to it, and two of them had been gulped down by middle-sized fish. The third was just gone, bait, hook and all. Not bad... not good either, but definitely not bad.
He made no move to acknowledge the fox, either to drive it off or invite it in. Perhaps hoping it might just give up and leave if he pretended it wasn't there at all.
Inhaling, he sought that tranquile serenity again. Wanted to let the cold and the wind, the great emptiness settle his soul again... but peace evaded him.
There was a tug on the line. Then another. With a practiced jerk of a wrist, Korbin yanked the fishing rod, felt resistance in the new weight on it, and began to haul the line back up. There were three hooks attached to it, and two of them had been gulped down by middle-sized fish. The third was just gone, bait, hook and all. Not bad... not good either, but definitely not bad.
He made no move to acknowledge the fox, either to drive it off or invite it in. Perhaps hoping it might just give up and leave if he pretended it wasn't there at all.
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.
Of the old time entombed.
