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Devoted:: Cloud Cover and Condensation by ArgentAconit, literature
Literature
Devoted:: Cloud Cover and Condensation
The rain had been a surprise to everyone. Snowfall was the most common sight anymore- calves have gone their entire lives not knowing what rain looked like, what a full bloom in the meadows could smell like. Rain was a mild reprieve and yet at the same time it was an inconvenience. Very few trees provided sufficient cover from the ice-cold needles that drizzled from the sky. The taiga rarely had enough foliage aside from the thick boughs of pine and evergreen but even they were weeping now. He let out a misted breath of air in frustration, his coat matted down with water and his bones as chilled as ice. He would prefer to trek the dangerous slopes of the Howling Range than linger in this constant downpour for another night. He continued forward, stopping underneath waterlogged trees to test the soggy ground with his hooves only to move on as he was disappointed with what he found. A quiet bleat turned his head, making him pause and twist his deep-blue ears forward as he held his
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My Body Is A Temple Devoted To Me by Sapphyre-Wynde, literature
Literature
My Body Is A Temple Devoted To Me
The doors are open Only to receive the gentle reverence and unadulterated awe The deity to which it is dedicated deserves. If you come, pay respects. Bring an offering worthy of the deity who’s favor you seek. Strive to be a person deserving of divine attention. The temple does not need you to maintain it. It desires nothing from you. The deity who has made it their home Nurtures and cares for it. Do not bring your disrespect, ignorance or violence To the temple. It disgraces you and lights the righteous fury of the deity. Do not commit this sacrilege. Visitors do not get a say about this temple.
The Sweetest Valentine by AntithesisOfASoul, literature
Literature
The Sweetest Valentine
Every day she would rise early, measure her ingredients out and set to work. She never got paid for what she did monetarily, but in smiles she did a plenty. Her back was bent from all of the years spent hoisting the heavy sacks, of bending over her work and kneading it with care. Her hands were gnarled, twisted like an old tree's roots from using her spoon to stir the parts together to make something greater as a whole, to make a wonder that burst with delight upon the tongues and brought back memories of a simpler time. Her face was lined with care, wrinkles telling of the many smiles she had shared, of tear tracks worn into her skin as
