Strahan's exit post.
At certain points in your life you find that there are forces you just can't ignore. Pushes that you have to yield to.
Even in one's afterlife, this truism holds.
Strahan had discovered that there was something pushing him. Pushing him beyond the door where wisdom said he'd fade, yet the push said he'd survive it.
His time here was done. A new time dawned; he must go.
Pity there were people here he'd benefit from the meeting of, but the push would not be denied.
The wolves gathered about him, and Sakti shuffled on her perch, before fluttering to his arm.
And the miniature, makeshift replica of the Seker's Gate sputtered a moment, then shrunk into darkness.
Strahan was satisfied. Whatever he owned but is not needed by anyone else would vanish, and whatever the bar owned would be reclaimed for the next person who entered.
Time to go.
Descending the stairs gave him the opportunity to look about the bar for perhaps the last time. People were sitting or standing, laughing or crying, hugging or shoving their embracer or embracers away.
Friendships were made and broken, and enemies were made and made friends out of.
Life began ever anew. Time continued to move along, watching but perhaps indifferent to it all.
Strahan too felt indifferent to it all. The push made him feel thus.
But.
Not enough to leave something behind.
A missive. Directed to the one who dominated his life before Milliways and during it.
A quick note. A little note on a scrap of parchment he was sure Asar-Suti would find and read.
In ancient Ihlini runes were the words written:
It was my time, and now I go. To whatever it is that awaits me beyond the door. Know thus that I have ever served you well, and regretted none of it, and that the time I spent here was rewarding and satisfactory. It was all any dedicated servant could want.
Once that was done, the door opened, the push pushed, and Strahan stepped out.
A new life for him and his animals would now begin in a Homana embracing a newfound glory one hundred years after the birth of Cynric. All they had to do, was find each other when the sickness set in and the need to seek each other out came upon him...
[And thus Strahan's time in the bar has come to an end. Out of all the pups I currently have he's been here the longest, and I figure that by now, he's had a good run, whatever he wanted to say has been said, and now it's time to send him on his way.
While potential headmates scrum for the now-vacant slot such is a mun's life never quiet.]
Even in one's afterlife, this truism holds.
Strahan had discovered that there was something pushing him. Pushing him beyond the door where wisdom said he'd fade, yet the push said he'd survive it.
His time here was done. A new time dawned; he must go.
Pity there were people here he'd benefit from the meeting of, but the push would not be denied.
The wolves gathered about him, and Sakti shuffled on her perch, before fluttering to his arm.
And the miniature, makeshift replica of the Seker's Gate sputtered a moment, then shrunk into darkness.
Strahan was satisfied. Whatever he owned but is not needed by anyone else would vanish, and whatever the bar owned would be reclaimed for the next person who entered.
Time to go.
Descending the stairs gave him the opportunity to look about the bar for perhaps the last time. People were sitting or standing, laughing or crying, hugging or shoving their embracer or embracers away.
Friendships were made and broken, and enemies were made and made friends out of.
Life began ever anew. Time continued to move along, watching but perhaps indifferent to it all.
Strahan too felt indifferent to it all. The push made him feel thus.
But.
Not enough to leave something behind.
A missive. Directed to the one who dominated his life before Milliways and during it.
A quick note. A little note on a scrap of parchment he was sure Asar-Suti would find and read.
In ancient Ihlini runes were the words written:
It was my time, and now I go. To whatever it is that awaits me beyond the door. Know thus that I have ever served you well, and regretted none of it, and that the time I spent here was rewarding and satisfactory. It was all any dedicated servant could want.
Once that was done, the door opened, the push pushed, and Strahan stepped out.
A new life for him and his animals would now begin in a Homana embracing a newfound glory one hundred years after the birth of Cynric. All they had to do, was find each other when the sickness set in and the need to seek each other out came upon him...
[And thus Strahan's time in the bar has come to an end. Out of all the pups I currently have he's been here the longest, and I figure that by now, he's had a good run, whatever he wanted to say has been said, and now it's time to send him on his way.
While potential headmates scrum for the now-vacant slot such is a mun's life never quiet.]