Mind of a HunterThe metallic whistling of blades. The beads of sweat dripping from his body. The stars and twin moons overhead. None of these things were noticed by the blue and black Hunter as he continued battling hordes of non-existent enemies. Flipping and rolling over the sand pit. The training grounds. His temple. Dardek popped up, propelling himself straight for his invisible target. He slashed at this foe in a wild rage. He could almost see the blood spurting, could almost feel it dripping down his blades onto his hands. His hands; soaked in the blood of his foes. So red, he believed, that were they to be dipped in the ocean the waters would be stained red. He is a killer. He is a thief. He is a Dark Hunter. He is Dardek.
Love SingsLove sings, some say. Springing up like a sunrise, or a crocus in the first days of spring. Allowing us to toss away the masks of hatred and narcissism. So often expressed with yo-yoed kisses. Oh, how the feeling sweeps over me! The sweet music delicately rubs it’s soft, warm fur against my cheeks like a purring kitten; turning my face pink. This music is so strong when I’m with you. You’re pulling me in with your candied kisses. Oh, you got me wanting you! You hug me and I burst into flames, crashing into you. Your arms are my castle, my sky, protector of my heart. You’re always here to wipe away all my tears, to pick me up when I’m down, to say all the right things.But love’s music is also knowing when to stop. Knowing you can’t always protect their heart, can’t always wipe away the tears, can’t always be their stone in the storm. And that’s when you see it in their eyes; the sun starting to set, the flower wiltin