Plodding through the Grass

[MisterSir378 5]

Meandering through the plains of this land, a young Dwarf picked both his thoughts- and his own nose. Digging deep into the depths of his nose and brain, the young one was able to pull out a nugget of knowledge. Promptly flicking it into the nearby stream, he sat down to skip rocks across its surface. Reaching down and taking hold misshapen rock, he takes it between his thumb and forefinger, flicking it across the surface- it barely skips once. Disappointed in his efforts, the young Dwarf picks up a second rock, one far smoother, and once again flicks it across the surface. It skips, skips, and skips again before a small fish randomly jumps into it's path- disrupting the perfect throw. Grumbling under his breath, the Dwarf becomes discouraged- frustrated at how even perfection can be so disturbed by the randomness of the universe. Deciding the futility of such an exercise, he picks himself up and dusts off his light brown trousers- patting his own full arse more than a handful of times.

 

Looking around after picking himself up, the young Dwarf notices a flock of birds flying above him. Spreading their wings wide, they soar freely through the bright sunshine- rising and dipping with the light breeze that ruffles his beard hairs. It is then that he knows his goals in life- and it is not something so foolish to live like those birds. Such free creatures served their purpose in the universe and were happy only because of their lack of understanding. Their happiness was effortless, and simple. He was determined to travel on and on, as far as he could in order to find happiness within his own way. Deciding to wade through the river he had just sat near, the young Dwarf plodded on through the meadow.

 

Reaching a lightly forested area of the countryside, the young lad took out his smoked meat sandwich and slouched down next to one of those newfound trees. Sighing with satisfaction, he dug in and closed his eyes- enjoying the succulent taste of the meat grinding between his rotting teeth. Rotting teeth that had not seen a cleaning in years, wooden replacements were expensive for a wandering orphan. He knew little of his past, had scant experiences to remember of his own- but was desperate to create new ones in this vast growing land. He did hold one thing dear though,

 

“Everyone likes to reminisce, but no one wants to listen, and everyone feels annoyed when someone else tells a story.”

And Arlon, was ready to listen.

 

(Just getting a feel for the server!)

[TheNunnery 1853]

This is amazing! I love it!