Press the flag and listen. Maybe love/fave or give constructive criticism. ________________ Wind blew through the tall grass of the plain in a haunting whisper, and far above in the dark night sky hung a thousand silver stars. The warrior stood among the waving silvery grass - alone. He dreaded every next step, dreaded what he might find. Yet his fat feet bent grass over with every footfall, and he moved forwards. Slowly. Searching. A glint of moonbeam caught his eye, and the cloak that rippled from his shoulders swirled as he turned. There it lay, half grown-over by the grass. The warrior knelt down and reached out. One hand wrapped around the hilt of the sword, an achingly familiar sword, and he lifted it from the ground. The blade shone silver in the starlight, as sharp and piercing as ever, untarnished. But the leather grip of the hilt was falling off in scraps, rotted through, pocked with holes and ravaged by the time that had also covered the old battlefield. Silently, the warrior brushed dirt and roots from the sword. Now it was but a relic, an old blade from long ago, from a battle that was lost that never should have been forgotten, the echoes of which sounded all around him. His head bowed, the warrior whispered but one word. "Gezza?..."
I stole StarflowerVIIs music because it was to good i had to steal it and make it about the Fat Vs Skinny War that i wrote in 3rd grade.
