S E I J I
This time, he hears the singing first.
Seiji walks alone through the woods, his breath a silver ghost above the collar of his coat. It still isn't enough to ward off the cold, but rested and fed, he moves with determination warming his veins. He has decided to explore the forest today, perhaps find the place where he came in. Came in — and does he really believe it? Everything Kiada told him? A part of him must still suspect this all a dream, but the longer it lasts the more he doubts this instinct. The frozen soil is certainly cold beneath his feet. The breeze certainly sharp. Everything stiff and brittle with winter. Though the season seems to have a different name, here.
He moves in the direction of the singing, now. Maybe because it feels portentous — he met a singing man on his first night in this wood, didn't he? Perhaps stumbling upon another one will lead him from his last day here... He approaches quietly, still wary, listening as the words run past his ears. It's a lovely voice. A complement to strange and wonderful lyrics. A story woven on the air, filling Seiji's head with images.
The man is so small Seiji nearly misses him at first. But there he is: a shock of orange hair against the snow. And beyond him: the glint of something moving between the trees. Seiji pauses, startled, as the creatures draw into view: like deer, but different. Thicker of build. And upon their heads: shining crowns. They approach carefully, each step uncertain. But Seiji spies some fruit collected upon the ground before the man, and supposes these creatures must be his. Or at least, he must be calling them here. For some purpose.
Curious and awed in equal measure, Seiji stills himself to watch. He does not wish to frighten the man, but neither does he wish to scare away the animals. He decides to wait for an opening, for some end to this curious tableau, before he speaks and breaks the magic of it himself.
This time, he hears the singing first.
Seiji walks alone through the woods, his breath a silver ghost above the collar of his coat. It still isn't enough to ward off the cold, but rested and fed, he moves with determination warming his veins. He has decided to explore the forest today, perhaps find the place where he came in. Came in — and does he really believe it? Everything Kiada told him? A part of him must still suspect this all a dream, but the longer it lasts the more he doubts this instinct. The frozen soil is certainly cold beneath his feet. The breeze certainly sharp. Everything stiff and brittle with winter. Though the season seems to have a different name, here.
He moves in the direction of the singing, now. Maybe because it feels portentous — he met a singing man on his first night in this wood, didn't he? Perhaps stumbling upon another one will lead him from his last day here... He approaches quietly, still wary, listening as the words run past his ears. It's a lovely voice. A complement to strange and wonderful lyrics. A story woven on the air, filling Seiji's head with images.
The man is so small Seiji nearly misses him at first. But there he is: a shock of orange hair against the snow. And beyond him: the glint of something moving between the trees. Seiji pauses, startled, as the creatures draw into view: like deer, but different. Thicker of build. And upon their heads: shining crowns. They approach carefully, each step uncertain. But Seiji spies some fruit collected upon the ground before the man, and supposes these creatures must be his. Or at least, he must be calling them here. For some purpose.
Curious and awed in equal measure, Seiji stills himself to watch. He does not wish to frighten the man, but neither does he wish to scare away the animals. He decides to wait for an opening, for some end to this curious tableau, before he speaks and breaks the magic of it himself.
The rain is full
of ghosts tonight
of ghosts tonight
I hope you don't mind me dropping in!
