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Post by flesheater on Aug 26, 2012 14:31:28 GMT -5
The deep, blue hue of the pallid moonlight, cascaded across the barren landscape of grotesquely twisted and gnarled cadaverous trees.
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Post by PaperGrace on Aug 26, 2012 15:25:18 GMT -5
Night voices did not disturb this lonely place, absent were the calls of crickets, frogs, and hunting birds.
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Post by flesheater on Aug 26, 2012 16:19:06 GMT -5
A peculiar, almost hollow stillness lingered amongst the noiseless realm, creating a murky, stale air, reminding one of the resting place of the dead.
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Post by scribbliz on Aug 26, 2012 16:57:29 GMT -5
Moving silently among the dead grass, a small, pale, twisted creature skittered.
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Post by readilygrey on Aug 26, 2012 17:18:21 GMT -5
It stopped beneath a tree, a little larger than the rest, with branches that creaked with age hangling so low as to nearly scrape the ground.
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Post by flesheater on Aug 26, 2012 17:25:18 GMT -5
Its vibrant, fiery eyes, burnt through the darkness like two pits of hell as it crept insidiously about the earth.
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Post by PaperGrace on Aug 26, 2012 17:47:11 GMT -5
The deep, blue hue of the pallid moonlight, cascaded across the barren landscape of grotesquely twisted and gnarled cadaverous trees. Night voices did not disturb this lonely place, absent were the calls of crickets, frogs, and hunting birds. A peculiar, almost hollow stillness lingered amongst the noiseless realm, creating a murky, stale air, reminding one of the resting place of the dead.
Moving silently among the dead grass, a small, pale, twisted creature skittered. Its vibrant, fiery eyes, burnt through the darkness like two pits of hell as it crept insidiously about the earth. It stopped beneath a tree, a little larger than the rest, with branches that creaked with age hangling so low as to nearly scrape the ground. The moonlight seemed to dim, a suggestion of wings passing overhead; the small creature darted under a twist of roots in terror.
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Post by scribbliz on Aug 26, 2012 18:28:40 GMT -5
As the creature hid there, cowering in a cavern formed of twisted roots, a low call sounded through the night, piercing in it's lonliness.
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Post by flesheater on Aug 27, 2012 4:56:37 GMT -5
It was the baying of some unholy thing, not of this world; it was the sound of the creature which shook the very souls of locals, that robbed their children of their sleep at night, it was the winged serpent.
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Post by PaperGrace on Aug 27, 2012 8:11:09 GMT -5
The deep, blue hue of the pallid moonlight, cascaded across the barren landscape of grotesquely twisted and gnarled cadaverous trees. Night voices did not disturb this lonely place, absent were the calls of crickets, frogs, and hunting birds. A peculiar, almost hollow stillness lingered amongst the noiseless realm, creating a murky, stale air, reminding one of the resting place of the dead.
Moving silently among the dead grass, a small, pale, twisted creature skittered. Its vibrant, fiery eyes, burnt through the darkness like two pits of hell as it crept insidiously about the earth. It stopped beneath a tree, a little larger than the rest, with branches that creaked with age hanging so low as to nearly scrape the ground. The moonlight seemed to dim, a suggestion of wings passing overhead; the small creature darted under a twist of roots in terror. As the creature hid there, cowering in a cavern formed of twisted roots, a low call sounded through the night, piercing in it's loneliness.
It was the baying of some unholy thing, not of this world; it was the sound of the creature which shook the very souls of locals, that robbed their children of their sleep at night, it was the winged serpent. As the sinuous ribbons of its scaly body undulated across the night sky it felt outward with its mind,searching for prey.
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Post by scribbliz on Aug 27, 2012 20:20:53 GMT -5
The creature beneath the twist of roots fell to his side; he clutched his head and wailed!
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Post by PaperGrace on Sept 4, 2012 16:00:31 GMT -5
(Ah, c'mon you guys, I was having fun with this! I don't want hog up the thread, at least get me one more line before I jump in again!)
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Post by flesheater on Sept 4, 2012 19:16:25 GMT -5
I'm tapped...keep it going if you can PaperGrace!
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Post by scribbliz on Sept 5, 2012 0:33:56 GMT -5
(k, I did the last line, but I'm gonna put another one in)
The deep, blue hue of the pallid moonlight, cascaded across the barren landscape of grotesquely twisted and gnarled cadaverous trees. Night voices did not disturb this lonely place, absent were the calls of crickets, frogs, and hunting birds. A peculiar, almost hollow stillness lingered amongst the noiseless realm, creating a murky, stale air, reminding one of the resting place of the dead.
Moving silently among the dead grass, a small, pale, twisted creature skittered. Its vibrant, fiery eyes, burnt through the darkness like two pits of hell as it crept insidiously about the earth. It stopped beneath a tree, a little larger than the rest, with branches that creaked with age hanging so low as to nearly scrape the ground. The moonlight seemed to dim, a suggestion of wings passing overhead; the small creature darted under a twist of roots in terror. As the creature hid there, cowering in a cavern formed of twisted roots, a low call sounded through the night, piercing in it's loneliness.
It was the baying of some unholy thing, not of this world; it was the sound of the creature which shook the very souls of locals, that robbed their children of their sleep at night, it was the winged serpent. As the sinuous ribbons of its scaly body undulated across the night sky it felt outward with its mind,searching for prey.
The creature beneath the twist of roots fell to his side; he clutched his head and wailed! His wail pierced the night, blocking his mind from that of the unholy demon soaring the skies.
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Post by thecatsmother on Sept 30, 2012 7:48:14 GMT -5
The deep, blue hue of the pallid moonlight, cascaded across the barren landscape of grotesquely twisted and gnarled cadaverous trees. Night voices did not disturb this lonely place, absent were the calls of crickets, frogs, and hunting birds. A peculiar, almost hollow stillness lingered amongst the noiseless realm, creating a murky, stale air, reminding one of the resting place of the dead.
Moving silently among the dead grass, a small, pale, twisted creature skittered. Its vibrant, fiery eyes, burnt through the darkness like two pits of hell as it crept insidiously about the earth. It stopped beneath a tree, a little larger than the rest, with branches that creaked with age hanging so low as to nearly scrape the ground. The moonlight seemed to dim, a suggestion of wings passing overhead; the small creature darted under a twist of roots in terror. As the creature hid there, cowering in a cavern formed of twisted roots, a low call sounded through the night, piercing in it's loneliness.
It was the baying of some unholy thing, not of this world; it was the sound of the creature which shook the very souls of locals, that robbed their children of their sleep at night, it was the winged serpent. As the sinuous ribbons of its scaly body undulated across the night sky it felt outward with its mind,searching for prey.
The creature beneath the twist of roots fell to his side; he clutched his head and wailed! His wail pierced the night, blocking his mind from that of the unholy demon soaring the skies.
The serpent hovered, casting its baleful shadow over the melancholy grove but could no longer sense the waves of panic that had drawn it down so low out of the skies. It beat its wings, wheeled around and within moments sighted the ramshackle wooden hut at the edge of the ravine.
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