Cold Moon - Revision history

Gronk at 18:10, 24 December 2025

2025-12-24T18:10:46Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 18:10, 24 December 2025
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	He heard the dune-cats prowling, despite their quiet movements. He saw the snakes waiting for prey to pass their burrows, even buried as they were.		He heard the dune-cats prowling, despite their quiet movements. He saw the snakes waiting for prey to pass their burrows, even buried as they were.

	He thought of the mountains ground to sand, and what they must have contained. Through them he walked, in a way, indistinguishable as ~~now~~ they were.		He thought of the mountains ground to sand, and what they must have contained. Through them he walked, in a way, indistinguishable as they were from the desert.

	The sand flowed past his feet in a familiar manner. It carried him to the home of his ancestors, turned to rolling dunes. He knew this as he knew the end of his walking staff, an awareness borne of history. He had learned of both long ago.		The sand flowed past his feet in a familiar manner. It carried him to the home of his ancestors, turned to rolling dunes. He knew this as he knew the end of his walking staff, an awareness borne of history. He had learned of both long ago.

Gronk at 04:09, 5 December 2025

2025-12-05T04:09:01Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 04:09, 5 December 2025
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	He heard the dune-cats prowling, despite their quiet movements. He saw the snakes waiting for prey to pass their burrows, even buried as they were.		He heard the dune-cats prowling, despite their quiet movements. He saw the snakes waiting for prey to pass their burrows, even buried as they were.
	~~He thought of the mountains ground to sand, and what they must have contained. Through them he walked, in a way, indistinguishable as they now were.~~

	~~The~~ sand ~~flowed past his feet~~ in a ~~familiar manner. It carried him to the home of his ancestors~~, now ~~rolling dunes. He knew this as he knew the end of his walking staff, an awareness borne of history. He had learned of both long ago~~.		He thought of the mountains ground to sand, and what they must have contained. Through them he walked, in a way, indistinguishable as now they were.

	None of his kin he saw in form, only as future-ghosts, as weightless potential. To them he spoke. To them he posed his questions, and to him they posed theirs. None found answers but gained understanding all the same. Thus having linked the time of now and the time that will be and was, he departed.		The sand flowed past his feet in a familiar manner. It carried him to the home of his ancestors, turned to rolling dunes. He knew this as he knew the end of his walking staff, an awareness borne of history. He had learned of both long ago.

			None of his kin he saw in form, only as future-ghosts, as weightless potential. To them he spoke. To them he posed his questions, and to him they posed theirs. None found answers but each and every gained understanding all the same. Thus having linked the time of now and the time that will be and was, he departed.

	Through the darkness the Exile walked, the moon above as cold as the desert night.		Through the darkness the Exile walked, the moon above as cold as the desert night.

Gronk: Created page with "{{InSettingTextNote}} {{InSettingTextInfo|title=Cold Moon|author=unknown|extra=A story commonly retold by Akwarai dwarven mystics}} {{Quote|Into the darkness the Exile walked, the moon above as cold as the desert night. Lights played at the shadow of his vision, campfires always out of reach and never in focus. They would not accept him regardless. He had no camp of his own, no tent to which he could return, only his walking staff and his sandals. They we..."

2025-12-05T04:07:15Z

Created page with "{{InSettingTextNote}} {{InSettingTextInfo|title=Cold Moon|author=unknown|extra=A story commonly retold by Akwarai dwarven mystics}} {{Quote|Into the darkness the Exile walked, the moon above as cold as the desert night. Lights played at the shadow of his vision, campfires always out of reach and never in focus. They would not accept him regardless. He had no camp of his own, no tent to which he could return, only his walking staff and his sandals. They we..."

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{{InSettingTextNote}}
{{InSettingTextInfo|title=Cold Moon|author=unknown|extra=A story commonly retold by [[Akwarai]] [[dwarf|dwarven]] mystics}}

{{Quote|Into the darkness the Exile walked, the moon above as cold as the desert night.

Lights played at the shadow of his vision, campfires always out of reach and never in focus. They would not accept him regardless. He had no camp of his own, no tent to which he could return, only his walking staff and his sandals. They were sufficient.

He heard the dune-cats prowling, despite their quiet movements. He saw the snakes waiting for prey to pass their burrows, even buried as they were.
He thought of the mountains ground to sand, and what they must have contained. Through them he walked, in a way, indistinguishable as they now were.

The sand flowed past his feet in a familiar manner. It carried him to the home of his ancestors, now rolling dunes. He knew this as he knew the end of his walking staff, an awareness borne of history. He had learned of both long ago.

None of his kin he saw in form, only as future-ghosts, as weightless potential. To them he spoke. To them he posed his questions, and to him they posed theirs. None found answers but gained understanding all the same. Thus having linked the time of now and the time that will be and was, he departed.

Through the darkness the Exile walked, the moon above as cold as the desert night.
}}

[[Category:Written works]]
[[Category:Written works/In-setting perspective]]