10-28-2024, 04:52 AM
![[Image: b697174351e42da4d951568e8c56e38f.jpg]](https://i.gyazo.com/b697174351e42da4d951568e8c56e38f.jpg)
Previews of four seemingly unrelated paragraphs from Sunsets over Moonlight collection of fictional short stories circulate. 'With Nothing but Love,', and so the author does following a few sentences of their opening prologue:
"How I understand myself may come across as cruel. No one knows me better than I and who other than I holds the authority to tell me how I should love myself? The love we give to others differs from the one we give ourselves. Despite living with one body from birth to death, our love for it is not unconditional..."
About Flowers...
Every summer, Luan and their father took a weeklong trip down south just outside the borders of a coastal town. Away from his duty and obligations, he forbade any courier deliveries unless it was absolutely dire. Luan, recently twelve years old, was eager to spend more quality time with their father. The two usually stayed at their home-away-from-home built right on the white sands on this yearly trip. This year, Luan's father led them down a different path after exiting the royal carriage and continuing on foot at midday.
- - -
About Performance...
It had been pouring rain for three days straight. The sky watchers predicted violent storms continuing for a few days longer, sky drowned in dark, dreary, heavy clouds and morale especially low after communicating with priests from the High Temple for further insight. "The Goddess turned sour after an inadequate performance from the heir of the throne, Jeo'vani aen Padali, at the colosseum battle against the Empire. We have not seen such rage like this in decades." commented the Reverend Priestess, hands grasped tight, digits deeply woven together.
- - -
About Service...
After the Great War, I retired from the Mage Association and started teaching privately in the west of the Kingdom. Had I not retired, the Arch Mage planned to pass his title onto me and instead of offering magic lessons, I would lead the most powerful mages to have ever graced the country. A foolish decision on my part. Rather than surround myself with greatness and legends in the making, I sparsely cycled through human children unworthy of my efforts and time.
- - -
About Prey...
One winter morning, Khesiel woke from restless, skittish dreams transformed into a gazelle in their plush bed. They tensed, bony legs curled underneath their belly and head risen, the neck longer than expected yet the weight it supported light- save for the long, sprouting horns that shoot. Fur patterned mostly white with streaks of pine brown, an unusual color for a gazelle, maybe because their hair is a silvery blonde sort of color already. They yearned to flex their digits, but they felt trapped at the knuckles, its suppressor a dainty hoof tucked out of sight. At their backside, a fluffy tail did wag once, reactionary.
"How I understand myself may come across as cruel. No one knows me better than I and who other than I holds the authority to tell me how I should love myself? The love we give to others differs from the one we give ourselves. Despite living with one body from birth to death, our love for it is not unconditional..."
About Flowers...
Every summer, Luan and their father took a weeklong trip down south just outside the borders of a coastal town. Away from his duty and obligations, he forbade any courier deliveries unless it was absolutely dire. Luan, recently twelve years old, was eager to spend more quality time with their father. The two usually stayed at their home-away-from-home built right on the white sands on this yearly trip. This year, Luan's father led them down a different path after exiting the royal carriage and continuing on foot at midday.
- - -
About Performance...
It had been pouring rain for three days straight. The sky watchers predicted violent storms continuing for a few days longer, sky drowned in dark, dreary, heavy clouds and morale especially low after communicating with priests from the High Temple for further insight. "The Goddess turned sour after an inadequate performance from the heir of the throne, Jeo'vani aen Padali, at the colosseum battle against the Empire. We have not seen such rage like this in decades." commented the Reverend Priestess, hands grasped tight, digits deeply woven together.
- - -
About Service...
After the Great War, I retired from the Mage Association and started teaching privately in the west of the Kingdom. Had I not retired, the Arch Mage planned to pass his title onto me and instead of offering magic lessons, I would lead the most powerful mages to have ever graced the country. A foolish decision on my part. Rather than surround myself with greatness and legends in the making, I sparsely cycled through human children unworthy of my efforts and time.
- - -
About Prey...
One winter morning, Khesiel woke from restless, skittish dreams transformed into a gazelle in their plush bed. They tensed, bony legs curled underneath their belly and head risen, the neck longer than expected yet the weight it supported light- save for the long, sprouting horns that shoot. Fur patterned mostly white with streaks of pine brown, an unusual color for a gazelle, maybe because their hair is a silvery blonde sort of color already. They yearned to flex their digits, but they felt trapped at the knuckles, its suppressor a dainty hoof tucked out of sight. At their backside, a fluffy tail did wag once, reactionary.
![[Image: cb9dd72403b90bae3d8fc519b5bd7c95.png]](https://i.gyazo.com/cb9dd72403b90bae3d8fc519b5bd7c95.png)