Post by Linaeve on Aug 17, 2009 16:08:29 GMT -5
The grass sped away underneath Gershwin's paws, every step of his sprint was controlled by an unheard beat, his eyes focused on something unseen in the distance. His bonded, Rhapsody, wove between his feet, never once tripping him off or throwing him off in the least. The two blue figures blurred into the perfect shade of the sky along the cliff's edge, only visible by the bursts of firey yellow and orange which stood out on their bodies.
A beautiful, controlled frenzy of notes and noises were flying through Gershwin's conciousness, propelling him forwards, giving meaning to every step of his frantic run. The music was familiar and new all at the same time- his pounce leader Linaeve brought some of her favorite music for him to listen to from time to time, since she knew that he loved music more than life itself, and the intertwining melodies of "Kingfishers Catch Fire" had held him long after Lin had left.
Running seemed to be the most appropriate activity to accompany this music, because it gave him such an overwhelming feeling of freedom and self-confidence, as though the world belonged to him. Elvens were made for running, as were Kinri. It just made sense, all of it. As he mentally reached the most pompous and powerful section of the music, he forced himself to stop running and stand at the edge of the cliff, his chest heaving as he caught his breath and his fur was blown backwards by the gust of wind that broke against the rocks beneath his feet. Each note rang full and clear in his ears until the final tone finally died away. It was then that he finally opened his eyes to see the Valley spread out below him, with the Dryad at its center, and for a moment everything was thrown into complete clarity. Yes- this was how exhilirating life was always supposed to feel.
His mind flipped from John Mackey to Benny Goodman, quietly sending an upbeat "Sweet Georgia Brown" through his mind. He bopped and danced slightly as he picked his way down a sloping ridge of rocks, his body simply responding to any whim the music tossed at him. Gershwin had never been in love before, but he was certain that if it never made him feel like this, it wouldn't be love.
He was still bouncing along to the clarinet line in his mind when he finally reached the soft grass of the Valley once more, and he danced his way towards the Dryad completely impervious to whatever anyone thought of a dancing Elven kiin.
A beautiful, controlled frenzy of notes and noises were flying through Gershwin's conciousness, propelling him forwards, giving meaning to every step of his frantic run. The music was familiar and new all at the same time- his pounce leader Linaeve brought some of her favorite music for him to listen to from time to time, since she knew that he loved music more than life itself, and the intertwining melodies of "Kingfishers Catch Fire" had held him long after Lin had left.
Running seemed to be the most appropriate activity to accompany this music, because it gave him such an overwhelming feeling of freedom and self-confidence, as though the world belonged to him. Elvens were made for running, as were Kinri. It just made sense, all of it. As he mentally reached the most pompous and powerful section of the music, he forced himself to stop running and stand at the edge of the cliff, his chest heaving as he caught his breath and his fur was blown backwards by the gust of wind that broke against the rocks beneath his feet. Each note rang full and clear in his ears until the final tone finally died away. It was then that he finally opened his eyes to see the Valley spread out below him, with the Dryad at its center, and for a moment everything was thrown into complete clarity. Yes- this was how exhilirating life was always supposed to feel.
His mind flipped from John Mackey to Benny Goodman, quietly sending an upbeat "Sweet Georgia Brown" through his mind. He bopped and danced slightly as he picked his way down a sloping ridge of rocks, his body simply responding to any whim the music tossed at him. Gershwin had never been in love before, but he was certain that if it never made him feel like this, it wouldn't be love.
He was still bouncing along to the clarinet line in his mind when he finally reached the soft grass of the Valley once more, and he danced his way towards the Dryad completely impervious to whatever anyone thought of a dancing Elven kiin.
