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On the Trail//Oregon April 2016

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Witch’s Castle - laurelhill

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He's a guy who dresses as funny as you and he steals from the rich to give to the poor.

 “Aye, sounds like me. ‘Cept, I do not look ‘funny’.”

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Sardonxy

➳

         Eyes observed the other quietly as he mounted, giving him a curt nod in response to his words. It was fairly easy to keep up with his chestnut steed’s pace, because (in Sardonyx’s perspective) it seemed like she was following a snail, slowly crawling over a boulder. But, despite this fact, the female hedgehog held a high rate tolerance, for Robert was only trying to be helpful, and if it got him out of wasting his life away in a bar, she wouldn’t complain. Plus she rather enjoyed taking this time, to look at the scenery.  

         Blood-colored pools gazed at the area they passed by with a secret sense of admiration, swelling in her core. The various colors, and wild demeanor this lively forest held were pleasing to her eyes. Each flower growing within it, released a soothing scent that spiraled into the air, and tingled the artificial entity’s keen nose. She then took a deep breath and closed her lids, to silently love the fresh, lush breeze. This hidden enjoyment however was soon disturbed, once the teal hedgehog spoke again. 

         Eyes fluttered open to shift attention back towards him, whilst hearing had picked up the wavering tone in his voice. Did her shocked expression back there still rattle Robert? If that was the case Sardonyx honestly couldn’t blame him. After all being compared to her counterpart always brought out some painful subjects. So pointing out his resemblances to a demon probably shook him quite a bit… Though she did not know what had occurred between these two individuals, the ebony girl was fairly certain it wasn’t something pleasant.  

         “Alright.” she replied, after focus was fully adjusted. A moment of silence temporarily hung in the air, as Sardonyx hesitated before saying her next sentence. “I… apologize if I briefly compared you to another back there. If it helps you’re really nothing like him, in terms of personality.” 

 Robert remained silent for a few seconds, eyes gazed downwards at his mare’s mane. He would need to give her a wash when they returned to the stables, maybe he could put some braids in as well. No matter how hard he tried, the pressing matter still played in his head; he and his anti weren’t so different. 

 Hazen had ruined his life, and for what purpose. His wife was murder, and his child missing, yet Rob O’ continued being tormented day in and out by the demon. But there was something else that served as a barrier in Rob O’s mind: his own inner demons. Doubt and Anxiety were cruel mistresses. Fear and Loss were his banes. 

 The rider forced a smile, and to look back at the girl. “It’s fine. It happens all the time.” Reaching back, he pulled his hood back on. With a click of his tongue, the mare raced off, cutting through the underbrush to reach the lake faster. 

 The waters were a shade of blue-gray today, spite the bright blue sky above. Robert’s ear twitched, but he didn’t mention anything as he climbed off and walked over to the lake bed. There, the flowers grew, dancing in the soft breeze. “Are these it?”

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So, are you a wannabe Robin Hood or something?

 “Who art tis ‘Robin Hood’, thou speaketh of?”

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First performance in 1,000 years: ‘lost’ songs from the Middle Ages are brought back to life.

An ancient song repertory will be heard for the first time in 1,000 years this week after being ‘reconstructed’ by a Cambridge researcher and a world-class performer of medieval music. Now, after more than two decades of painstaking work on identifying the techniques used to set particular verse forms, research undertaken by Cambridge University’s Dr Sam Barrett has enabled him to reconstruct melodies from the rediscovered leaf of the 11th century ‘Cambridge Songs’. After piecing together an estimated 80-90 per cent of what can be known about the melodies for The Consolation of Philosophy, Barrett enlisted the help of Benjamin Bagby of Sequentia – a three-piece group of experienced performers who have built up their own working memory of medieval song.

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Have you ever wondered what’s it’s like to die?

 A shiver ran through his spine, despite being out in broad daylight on horseback. It was a familiar sensation; one he had two years ago. It was like drowning on your own blood; a feeling of dread. Instead of looking around, however, Rob O’ smiled,eyes closing. 

 “So, ye died again, eh Hazen?” he muttered under breath, continuing on his path through the forest. Two years ago, he looked around paranoid of being followed by Lord Hood’s men. Only later he had found out what he felt was his anti’s last dying moments.

 How many people could say that they’ve felt a connection like that?

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Photographer: ollidressler | instagram

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♐???♐

“Alright sir. If you need help with it I’ll be here until dawn.” She nodded and sat on the bed. She wondered why he would mess with such books when she already has the dark power and the knowledge. She didn’t dare say anything after telling her to stay in her room, which she was doing now.

 Panicked, Rob O’ closed the door, trying to take deep breaths to calm himself down. ‘Now Rob...’ he thought to himself. ‘You don’t know if she’s bad or good.’ He walked away from the door, heading down the steps to pick up the books. In the morning, he decided he’d rid of them. 

 He then went back upstairs, into his room, and fell asleep.

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♐???♐

“Say, are those book about demons and such? Sorry for getting into your business, but I happen to be good with the dark arts and such so….May I …um look at them?” She sighed as she sat her stuff down on the floor of the spare room. She bowed to him as thanks.

 The very air stiffened, choking Rob. Oh, what has he done, getting involved in the dark arts?! Breathing became harder, as he forced his words out. “N-no! just stay in thine room, please!”

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♐Aria♐

“Yes, it sounds lovely. Thank you…. So what’s new?” She was exhausted, and was eager for her friend to start talking so she could listen

 “Naught much. Been around th’ manor, taking care of mine kingdom.” He rested his head against the door frame, feeling the cool, rough fur against his heated face. 

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Reblog if your muse would risk their life to save a loved one