The first snows of the season.

[Isley is standing out back of his home, between his property and the stretch of land that is the newly whitewashed Hunting Grounds.]

Were it up to me, I would never see the snow melt. [Holding out his hand, white flurries settle upon Isley's skin. They soon turn from fat flakes and into beads of cool water that ( Read more... )

The fog rose and a dragon came.

[Isley's voice accompanies the gentle click of his Forge as he turns it on, the gears humming internally, a soft whir of noise that is barely audible against the brush of wind across the speakers. The sword he normally carries at his hip is driven into the earth; he rests his back against the blade and in his lap ( Read more... )

[With the internal humming of spinning gears the Forge buzzes to life ( Read more... )

The city has witnessed great devastation at the hands of various enemies, yet its scars appear to be superficial. Everywhere I look, I see the changed expressions of the Natives. Their once resentful stares now foster gratitude and warmth ( Read more... )

The light rains this morning were pleasant to behold. Already it is cooling outside, and the evening air is damp ( Read more... )

It has been one year.

[Isley is returned from the ruins, sitting comfortably at a stately desk in his bedroom quarters. Behind him is a backdrop of neutral tones. A grey-brown wall, a gilded black bedroom suite, tall white windows with drawn back charcoal curtains that permit the entrance of light, a heavy chandelier, bits and pieces of mounted ( Read more... )

( You have heard of warmth emanating, radiating, but this is the first time you have witnessed it bleed... )

[Lights. Camera. Is that-blood ( Read more... )

“He’s one of them, one of the beasts!” The shouting voice belongs to a man wielding a staff.

“I remember him!” shrieks another, a dainty woman who is wearing her hair in a too-tight bun.

“Destroyed that building-” a kid attempts to chime in.

“He destroyed a lot of buildings, him and the others like him!” the first interrupts, fist in a white- ( Read more... )

[Growling blares through the speakers as the Forge is turned on. Mechanical clinks and clunks follow. The screen remains dark until the device is wrenched from the mouth of a dire wolf pup. The lens is smeared with slobber. The pup's tail is wagging profusely ( Read more... )