Post by John on Apr 10, 2006 8:31:49 GMT -5
There were few things that had managed to surprise him in his time. There were few things that caused him to be alarmed, or to be nervous, or even anxious. However, as he stood before the vast expanse of forest, which brimmed, and teemed with its own essence of mystical force. Jynx, was indeed rather anxious. A great many changes had occurred, pieces were put into place and at long last, he was free.
To an extent of course. There were always responsibilities, but he was grateful that there were those who were capable of taking over the majority of the dealings he had done alone for years beyond those of the man he had overseen, and watched and even socialized with. He was old, and he was tired. Now he felt relieved and he knew he had a great deal more work to do. Hopefully it would be work that would be more beneficial, more healing. He had never meant to burn bridges, or to cause so much personal strife. Then again, that had come with the territory hadn't it? Phenomenal power, wisdom beyond reason. Would he change it all if he could? Honestly the answer would have to be no.
The black feline stood upright upon two legs. A long cane of lacquered, brown wood clutched within a modified paw with an impossible thumb. He appeared to be a small fuzzy man from a distance. Though upon closer inspection the two and a half foot tall creature was most definitely feline. The long tail no longer tipped with an ever burning blue flame. The halo that shimmered of white and gold no longer apparent. Upon his head resided a simple, floppy hat of worn, comfortable leather. Two holes sliced into the fabric to allow his tufted ears to be visible. The large eyes still seemed to glow with ever present knowledge within their golden shades. Strapped over his slim, fuzzy torso was a satchel, of leather, and the pack resided upon his left hip. The staff itself was intricately designed and the head held a brass crescent moon, and a star nestled within the curve.
He would wait ever patiently before the forest of The Arch Mage, Agesilao. There was indeed a great chance that the old wizard would not see him. Could he blame him? Of course not, he did hope for an audience and he would wait, with exceeding patience, standing for hours, which melted easily into days. The clouds churned, the rains began to fall and drizzle down upon his hat, and against his black fur. His whiskers twitched in annoyance. Much like a feline, he was not keen on having his fur wet. Perhaps it was a test? He would surpass it, and he would be patient. He had no place to make demands, he had no place to be upset. What he had done had been unjust, what he had to do now. Well, it was all that he felt he could do.
It was an attempt.
To an extent of course. There were always responsibilities, but he was grateful that there were those who were capable of taking over the majority of the dealings he had done alone for years beyond those of the man he had overseen, and watched and even socialized with. He was old, and he was tired. Now he felt relieved and he knew he had a great deal more work to do. Hopefully it would be work that would be more beneficial, more healing. He had never meant to burn bridges, or to cause so much personal strife. Then again, that had come with the territory hadn't it? Phenomenal power, wisdom beyond reason. Would he change it all if he could? Honestly the answer would have to be no.
The black feline stood upright upon two legs. A long cane of lacquered, brown wood clutched within a modified paw with an impossible thumb. He appeared to be a small fuzzy man from a distance. Though upon closer inspection the two and a half foot tall creature was most definitely feline. The long tail no longer tipped with an ever burning blue flame. The halo that shimmered of white and gold no longer apparent. Upon his head resided a simple, floppy hat of worn, comfortable leather. Two holes sliced into the fabric to allow his tufted ears to be visible. The large eyes still seemed to glow with ever present knowledge within their golden shades. Strapped over his slim, fuzzy torso was a satchel, of leather, and the pack resided upon his left hip. The staff itself was intricately designed and the head held a brass crescent moon, and a star nestled within the curve.
He would wait ever patiently before the forest of The Arch Mage, Agesilao. There was indeed a great chance that the old wizard would not see him. Could he blame him? Of course not, he did hope for an audience and he would wait, with exceeding patience, standing for hours, which melted easily into days. The clouds churned, the rains began to fall and drizzle down upon his hat, and against his black fur. His whiskers twitched in annoyance. Much like a feline, he was not keen on having his fur wet. Perhaps it was a test? He would surpass it, and he would be patient. He had no place to make demands, he had no place to be upset. What he had done had been unjust, what he had to do now. Well, it was all that he felt he could do.
It was an attempt.