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Adventure
Prose
On Break
A Journey to Adafus
Writer Lij Wynter
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  • G: General Audiences
  • PG: Parental Guidance Suggested
  • PG-13: Parents Strongly Cautioned
  • R: Restricted
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A Journey to Adafus
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#3
 The Ride to Rosenbalm
Lij Wynter
Jul 25, 2017
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7 Mins Read
No Plagiarism!kOjXsG6xtG672ux9xM6Vposted on PENANA

Up and about the elder travelled, travelled on the sugared road. Walked and panted, with bag a struggle, oh how he wished a horse he'd rode. A thought that went through his mind of weary, weary elder on the path. Only now he realized clearly, that there were many horses the farmers hath. He sighed and noted by sun shining, that the hour was close to four, only now with breath declining, did he realize he could walk no more. The foxling at his side did yap, yap for him to move on strong, but then he fell on his knees like sap, slowly dripping downwards long. His breath did fog, his eyes did haze, as he leaned downwards to the road. He crawled to log, and then did phase, his face to earth and his pain did show. In circles, in circles his companion chased, its tail to no avail, she ran in circles to cheer him up, but then she gently wailed. With a thud his large sac did fall, to the earth and shook his frame, he then thought if it would be a good idea, to walk when in such pain. Against a tree again he found, himself to slump along. Ten minutes passed and then he sung, (for time to pass) a song.copyright protection77PENANA5mfhgcuYBq

Ten minutes turned to half an hour, and then from that to more, by the time he'd gained his breath, the sun was out no more. With the fox in hands, the Oldman cried a tear to go to sleep. The fox licked his face and toyed with pads, to reduce the elders weep. Just as his lids did close, to block what little light was left, the Oldman heard a sound in droves, and surmised he was not deaf. The sound travelled from the distance, from which the elder walked, it grew and grew and proved its existence, as it lights began to talk. They flickered to and fro, and grew brighter as they drew near. The elders and foxes eyes did widen, as in this night they sensed no fear. A horse neighed audibly, through the ebony space, as the carriage came to halt, at the elders face. At last the carriage came and he heard the reigns quake, he opened his mouth in awe and wonder, as his facely orifices did gape.  copyright protection77PENANAAWeTTGAZe4

He felt the power of the horses breathing, as it grunted and stomped the ground, and from the lights of night approaching, he saw the carriage from dim light around. From his sight of old and wear, he saw t'was a wagon caravan, with the roof of stitch and tear, a voice erupted from the left of hand. "Who might you be, to walk this path at night? Do you not see the peril, you are in danger to die of fright." And with the lantern light now stable, for it shook and bent the sight, the giant in carriage was now able, to tell t'was elder in the night. "Oh, what do we have here? An elder up past dawn? Now this is a joke worth asking, but perhaps from your home you've gone. For what reason is that so, if I may be so bold to ask, but it has crossed my mind that you, might be tired on this trekking path. But my manners escape me, for I have not lent my name, perhaps I will share it, if you stimulate my brain." Said the large man to the frail, and then the Oldman like hammer on wood, did the mans word had hit the nail.copyright protection77PENANAGkcIPKSnwY

 "So wordy, you art my fellow, but to your offer will I take, I will with a poem or two, with my words make your brain stimulate. But, in exchange for my service, I bid you and will ask, will it be a bother for you to carry me as a task?" The giant leaned over and turned his sturdy head, and with his orange beard a'waving with vigor said, "Sure, sure, I will indulge, for you to give a poem. But if you don’t, I will leave and maybe steal your coin. To make it good, is what I ask, and what I hope to hear, if you can give a rhyme so nice, to your wish will I adhere." With a gulp, the Oldman said, "With my fox will I consult" and so he turned and rubbed the fox, and said "If I lose, take my coins and run." The fox nodded and then panting that it knew what to do, the Oldman turned to face the grin of the giant true. “This poem that I have, is one taken from my mind, this is a poem that I loved, and so would not leave behind, as it did not fleet from mine head like dove.” copyright protection77PENANAiCkyTBLnzn

-Breaking Point- copyright protection77PENANAO9j23dJEdX

.copyright protection77PENANAITiVC7Fvub

Ah, have you ever reached that point, copyright protection77PENANAtNOOlHp75Z

The point where you feel like nothing, copyright protection77PENANAuT9OWc2FRf

In the wind while the world blows by? copyright protection77PENANADA9VvM3biy

copyright protection77PENANAnLlbAHT0OY

You reach and reach and so near your grasp, copyright protection77PENANA0jR98Omate

It darts away like greased lightning, copyright protection77PENANAq6OA2km5vE

The success that you yearn for. copyright protection77PENANADTqZ41GX2v

 .copyright protection77PENANAV2PNcXCz85

Until no further can your hands reach, copyright protection77PENANANycB8eWvkr

As they weigh more each second, copyright protection77PENANAaXkBXpCEmF

They fall to your sides. copyright protection77PENANA9iIZ6UWIt4

 .copyright protection77PENANAOgD1SMgOhA

All they hold is angst and rage, copyright protection77PENANAgsyB3v1G9n

Holding only on your grudge, copyright protection77PENANAljG3iNYfws

That you hold for the world. copyright protection77PENANAkkIXmBKCq1

 .copyright protection77PENANAcHtKixgjdq

An eyebrow raised, the rugged man, as his eye did steady on. He looked around in caravan, and then to the elder looked upon. “Confusion” it was written, all over the red bearded face, and then he said, “That didn’t rhyme!” and prepped his horse to race. “Oh no, oh no, you bearded youth, can you not see, that the poem I gave you, was a soundless melody?” said the elder to the young. He thought real hard and then realized, and so did click his tongue. “It appears this man is misguided , of what poetry can be. Perhaps to my advantage, can I make him carry me.” The elder thought to himself. “Oh no, oh no, that boy, be not the case, that is a type of poetry refined, for those with poets tastes.” “What do you mean?” the giant asked, with both his brows now raised. The Oldman chuckled and then smiled and said “I’ll explain along the way”. And so picked up his enormous bag, and rested on carriages seat, and then he picked up his fox, and rested on not his feet.  copyright protection77PENANAHzJoC2bBhI

On the seat he placed himself, and comfort was assured, now he found himself and fox, a ride they had procured. “What is it you think you do, Oldman to you I speak, get your bum and rear end off, my beloved seat. Along with your massive bag, off my caravan, did you take me for a fool to fall for words slight of hand. You think yourself so wise, just because you did not rhyme. But I could surmise, that (from my experience of being swindled) that of no substance did your words comprise.” The elders eyes opened wide, he was forced to swallow the truth, that large man was more than muscle, he had brains as well, to boot. Seeing through his word play, the elder nearly froze, until the fox nibbled his hand and his confidence then arose.copyright protection77PENANA3C2MAonk0O

 “No you youngster, you’re mistaken, for I did what you had asked. You said to stimulate your brain, was my only task. You seem to have forgotten your own words, for I did do what I should, you heard a poem you ne’er heard before, and your brain had not understood.” And with these words said, through his fingers ran his beard, the grey waves on face, the same type of hair they shared.  copyright protection77PENANAmdvQYNne7B

For a minute silence, with only the crickets to speak, in the large mans brain was violence, even though his brain weren’t weak.copyright protection77PENANAFPaodMrpnJ

 Until a low grunt of disgruntlture, squeaked out of his face. The man then turned to face the old, and said when in the ride, he and fox should brace. copyright protection77PENANA7rladVzBgA

Through the darkness there was a thumping of thunder on the ground, a horses heavy breathing polluted the saturated cricket cries. The only source of light to guide the tattered caravan was a lantern that shook at each trod from the powerful beast of burden. For time that could be estimated by the elder would have measured around 20 minutes that he, foxling and stranger had ridden. The trotting and crickets aside, seemed to only have become white noise illuminating the pitch night. All the elders eyes could see was no more than 10 feet ahead of him in this starless night, from which even the moon hid. The foxling was soundly asleep, something the elders body surely would have appreciated to have himself do. But alas, he could not, for the fear of getting robbed was still heavy on his mind. copyright protection77PENANApCNUtMIQ1P

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