They told me I had a name

[frodofigment]

A name. A name. Gray... Balance... Frodo. A personality. Frodo. A love. Young Sam. Too young. Naive, both of us. A journey. Pain, suffering...love lost before the journey could be taken. Bleeding of the emotional kind. Salty tears on lips beginning to feel, and a tongue beginning to taste. Being told that I cannot die, that I must write. I cannot

Comments

[trahald]

Are you going to eat the apple, or sstare at it Iorhael?

*holds out the reigns of the black pony to Iorhael* Come on. He rememberss how to ride, doess he?

[frodofigment]

No, I do not think I will ever eat it. I could make more...but not this one.

~takes the reigns from the Store's hand, gently "tasting" him as their skin touches~ Sméagol. Thank you. I remember how to ride. It will not take me long to regain all that was lost...I must concentrate on this form now, and keeping it or else I may shift. It has been a long time since I've been anything other than...

[trahald]

No, no making anything. Keep your apple if you will, even if it will rot. Make things after you eat something, or tap into the Realm itself. No energy yet for making in hobbit form.

A horned horse lost at sea. Yes. Great trinity we have, yes. You, a hart, and a serpent. Good and evil, or whatever they may be, I leave that to the three to play their games. All "I am the one you follow, I am the one you trust." Not a one of you know what you're doing, me thinks. Not a one. Power games, and mind tricks, all of it. Sméagol does what he can, and stays away. Not wanting to be involved in the threes foolery. It's better to pretend you don't exist, right. At least you have personality...try talking to Chaos when he isn't out to kill someone in a dramatic way. It is like talking to a snake that thinks it is a god. Talk to Order, and you are talking to the trees. Talk to Balance *nods at Iorhael* and you are talking to a hobbit at least...but y'still think you're a god. *snorts and turns his horse* And the mun cries...save him, save him, as if

[frodofigment]

~climbs on the horse, still holding his apple. Sends out a tendril, rooting into the ground, feeding from the earth~ I'm not used to this anymore. Blended in...the Realm feeds me without request, and I feed it. I barily remember the turmoil of being in the form I wanted.

~follows Sméagol, frowning~ I have never heard anyone speak against the trinity so. ~looks at his apple~ I suppose you are right though. We do struggle often for who gets the most power and control. At least Chaos and I do. Order is content to wander into the forest...make it perfect there, unchanging. Chaos wants to shake things up...make things more molten. As if the Realm does not change enough already. I just want...this. This stillness that provides the possibilities of change. I want things to be right. Perhaps what I see as right is different from what the muses do. ...Spit and vinegar? Me? I'm afraid you're mistaken. ~looks back at the sea~ I'm not sure if I'm ready to see the other hobbits. Or to get the sea out of my ears. I'm still unstable, I think.