macbastard

Alone came the king to the top of the misty hill. His vast empire was all around him but for all of his power, he could not see it. The acicent wind wraped itself around the monarch,causing the stong figure to bow slightly, to hunch, to affect a form rather ignoble. Where his subjects to see him they would wisper at the crudness of his form...and so the Lord was glad for the grey.

The titled looked down into the wet green grass and saw a tiny clump of flowers among the bracken, pink petels with white gathered inside thier middle. These the wind molested as well, flicking them to and fro. A ritchly ringed finger brushed one of the flowers feeling the dew, the silky lgenth of one of the petels, the rough clump of white in the center.

Hesitently the hand that held the finger went to pluck the flower and stopped. And instead splad itself out amoung the turf and served as a item of balance for a lowering body. Two eyes peered upon the small forest of foliage, the flowers being like trees amoung bushes. A cheek rested itself on the damp ground and two lungs let out a contented sigh. In the distance, thunder grumbled, and closer a chain attached to a well made leather belt clinked as the scabbard it held gave way to gravity.

A small slight voice met the mans ears. "Why did you not pick them?" It was a River Otter come to see what was about. The man awnsered "In all my kingdom, of all the buetious riches and bulidings that I survey, I do not have anything such as this. Buldings are torn down, Butiful thins are stolen, givem away, melted down. People are always pulling and pushing, making so much noise and argument. I came out here to get away for awhile. These little flowers are perfect. I wanted to let them rest and be resplended in thier little while that they have."

The otter didn't really look at the flowers. "That is an odd place for a king to be, all splattered around upon the groud such as you are."

The Man replied "You otters are a lucky bunch getting to be so low to the earth, able to appreciate the range of all things around you."

The otter looked at the little flowers, with the wind snapping them back and forth and moved over beside the figure and lay down, his feet beside him. "They are rather pretty..."

"Yes."

It started to rain. It was a very long time before the otter and his companion stood turned and went thier seprate ways.


Mac