you know I run to find the answersoshutupSeptember 9 2010, 07:43:26 UTC
He sleeps a little less soundly lately, if only because he prefers to be certain that he will only be sleeping and not slipping off into some other state of being--dead but present, veiled but lingering. There is, as it happens, no real way to make assurances that this will remain the truth, and whether he is awake or not ultimately has nothing to do with it. What being awake at this hour does for him, however, tonight, makes the quiet fear almost worth the trouble, though worth seems a poor word for it the more he thinks about measuring these kinds of things and the impossibility of it. Even if one adds up the years a man is alive it doesn't actually do him a scrap of good as far as representing his worth. A year is just twelve months and twelve months are just hundreds of days. And all of that? All of it? Just numbers. Measuring life, figuring out what counted and what didn't, it's a difficult business that Peter isn't certain he is meant to be floundering around in too much. Better to simply be as best as one can and hope the
( ... )
you know I run to find the answersnevertameSeptember 10 2010, 08:27:31 UTC
Would it occur to Peter Pevensie that perhaps the rock upon which he left his shoes leaning was no rock at all but the lion himself? Perhaps it wouldn't occur to him just as he was not listening at the right moments in England or maybe that very nature of the unpredictable which defines Aslan is how it is supposed to be, so no one would blame the High King. He has learned all he can from Narnia, but they are not in Narnia now, and there it has always been the intention for him to know Aslan in one place so that he might know Aslan better in another. Possibly this world is another extension of that lesson. Either way, only after Peter has set off for the beach does the rock's silhouette come to life, golden even under the silver glow as he walks down the sand, shoes gently carried in his muzzle to bring them closer to his highest knight in the holiest order. He will not greet until Peter does.
action ][protects_herSeptember 9 2010, 08:11:25 UTC
[A familiar face is out late at the beach tonight, sitting comfortably on the beach on a low rolling hill of sand, watching the waves as they lap against the shore in a calming, constant rhythm. There are plenty of bits of knotted vine around him again, and a newly finished net to replace the old one he lost; at the moment, he is absently tying knots in his last remaining piece of vine. However, the knots never stay put--as soon as he ties them into place, he unravels them again, and then smoothly transitions into tying another.
Though he does not appear to be particularly sleepy, his eyes do have a brooding look to them as he watches the ocean and makes his knots. He is in no hurry to return to the City, nor is he in any hurry to give himself over to his nightmares once again. For now, he is content to sit and think and simply be, surrounded by the sand and the sea and all the stars in the sky.]
[Surrounded by the sand, the sea, the stars, the sky, and a silhouette that approaches most soundlessly though his paws leave prints in his wake. Aslan has no reason to hide his physical presence. That he moves as quietly as the night itself is a natural predisposition. He has no intention of surprising the netmaker but neither does he announce his own appearance. It is as so that he waits for Finnick to take notice, if he will take notice.]
action ][protects_herSeptember 10 2010, 16:42:40 UTC
[Lions belong in the woods, not on the beach. But it is dark, and Aslan's approach is silent; when Finnick does notice him, it's less that he heard him coming and more that some deep, inexplicable instinct drives him to look. When he spots the large silhouette moving toward him, his hand first slides through the sand, unconsciously reaching for a trident that isn't there. Then, searching blindly for any sort of weapon once this realization sinks in, his hand falls on a corner of his net and he quickly pulls it in toward him for a better grip, his eyes never leaving the shape in the shadows.
He is at much more of a disadvantage this time than he was the last time he fought a lion, even though the beach is his domain where the forest was the lion's. When it attacks--because of course it will attack, because why else would a lion come for him this way if not to attack--he will confound it with the net and run for the ocean, he decides grimly. A slim chance, to be sure, but it's the best one he has at the moment
( ... )
[Aslan's approach ceases when Finnick sees him and sees fit to arm himself with what weapons he has at hand. To the lion this is no point of alarm though he recognizes a warning. The young man has yet to strike him. He is waiting for the lion to strike first. That alone tells the King of the Wood more than words ever could.]
Will you stay your defenses if we are to speak, only?
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Though he does not appear to be particularly sleepy, his eyes do have a brooding look to them as he watches the ocean and makes his knots. He is in no hurry to return to the City, nor is he in any hurry to give himself over to his nightmares once again. For now, he is content to sit and think and simply be, surrounded by the sand and the sea and all the stars in the sky.]
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He is at much more of a disadvantage this time than he was the last time he fought a lion, even though the beach is his domain where the forest was the lion's. When it attacks--because of course it will attack, because why else would a lion come for him this way if not to attack--he will confound it with the net and run for the ocean, he decides grimly. A slim chance, to be sure, but it's the best one he has at the moment ( ... )
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Will you stay your defenses if we are to speak, only?
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...you do talk.
Sorry seems very 'I am the queen of lame' right now.
Hallmark doesn't make a card for this. I should--
I'm sorry. I'm pretty sure I was cursed 'cause I stole underwear too.
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...you've got that part right though. I would have--I have your skin. It seemed really...bad to throw out so...
[This is awkward]
Do you want it back?
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My fur is velvet, my mane is silk. What use would I have for a skin I've already shed?
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