IMP

"Urrrhgnh" He wasn't sure whether or not that was a sigh. He had no idea what to call it. He pruned a jolting jive as the nosy night leased what looked like rusty rays from the rare of the moody azure. He wasn't sure what that was. He  wasn't in for guesses. Guesses were but gaunt gifts of jumpy grits. All he needed was a place to rest his heavy head and take a walk into the foiled fantasy of the Utopian hemisphere. He was already a wreck of an existence. Of course he wouldn't nurse that fact. He knew what was real and would embrace. Only if he could find a cave!       The numb night was young. Twas sucking under the gaberdine of felon fright. Gaunt gloom had wrapped up smothered stars littered across the sewn sky. The bruised breeze maintained the contralto supplanted by the dusk. Orders knew the

      "Oria blah blah..."        He looked. The day was just dawning. He was on a tree. At least, the branch of a tree. His eyes met with the rustic rays of the apt azure. He was conscious of what effect they would have on him. A part of him feared or did dread their ferociousness. From his part of the world, where he had came, there wasn't much of the ray there. They could simply savor the aroma. Like a figment of its projection. That was all they were opened to. That was all they could make of its pleasantries. But on the tree, twas quite different. His head was heaving a sigh. A salient sigh. He could maneuver those. He could handle those. He had been handling things greater than those. He felt a pang reaching for the tip of his consciousness. He needed time to figure out what to do. Of course twas not farfetched. Twas something he could easily come by. Shouldn't be a mill around his neck of course. He cons

.      "Uhhh?"        Those were the syllabic sanity he could sweep into a whole. He couldn't had done more than that. His eyes widened at what he saw. Many thoughts were fighting a stance. He probably might lose it. He kept his patience drooling as he allowed his instinct to savor whatever it was that taunted time was leasing. He couldn't afford reeling in gaunt guts. He couldn't afford making strays of wits. He couldn't allow pain to pore his rage. He wouldn't allow fear to mock his pride. Why would he. He had no idea what the creature was and what it wanted. How then would he be so dramatic and belatedly dismissive. He was damn sure that many a tales had been told to him about sundry creatures living on the upper land. They did have less of that in his own world. What they did have were monsters. Creatures with awkward shapes and forms. A creature with a thin body complemented by a super big head. Or one with a larg

      "Huh oorh"        He had no idea what to do with the Cougar beside him on the tree. But of course he knew what he would do with the one beneath him. He knew that the creature would never make it to the top of the tree. It would only rage and growl to make him cower and surrender. He did know the logic of those creatures. He didn't know that creatures in the figment of the universe were as sensible as that. He needed no hypotheses to test their stance and logic. He did know what they were up to. He did know the language which they understood easily. He knew how to make confetti of the semantic also. DEATH! That's their language. They would seek the death of a stranger or whoever they were accosting you the first time. He didn't know what trained knowledge was that. He had no idea who trained the knowledge. He couldn't be sure. He couldn't fathom. Probably if he did arrive at a crumbling

      "Ai mele..."      He stood. That was the best thing to do. That was actually his third attempt before he could make sanity of how he was supposed to stand. He had tried in the first place and had fell facedown into the water over and over again. Happened that his claws would dig into the moist earth beneath the water which was incapable of holding his weight. But at last, he was able to make meaning of the insanity as he staggered on his feet. He wasn't exhausted, but he felt like he needed a rest. He wasn't used to resting. He was more of the jacky. More of an unrelenting jacky. Though he had no sane idea what that meant. He was simply savoring the atmosphere. Back in the underworld, he could go on working for several darkness-shifts without rustic rest. Exactly why his father treasured him and wouldn't trade him for naught. He would sit him beneath the black dwarf like trees locked up into a boulevard