Natural Inclinations [IronKitten & adifferenceinsize]
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Solos =&gt; Topic started by: IronKitten on 07-03-2011, 07:07:20</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Natural Inclinations [IronKitten &amp; adifferenceinsize]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>IronKitten</strong> on <strong>07-03-2011, 07:07:20</strong>
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				They say it's a small world, but when you're bound to one tree in one forest, it gets even smaller. That was life for the dryads, although, having no other options or experiences, they hardly minded. A life of relative leisure, with the safety of the forest—a safety that was only very rarely threatened.<br><br>The closed community of the dryads had limited ideas and experiences—few of them had even seen a human, let alone a man, and none had touched ones outside of times of war. They whiled away the hours in purely innocent company—their own—pure as the day they were carved from their tree.<br><br>Evie enjoyed the quiet life she had been blessed with; a dryad for whom decades had passed with the speed of seasons, she had yet to grow tired of the laconic lifestyle. Days made up of bathing in streams and lying in sunshine and dozing within the warm confines of her tree were days of true pleasure, as far as she was concerned. <br><br>There was no other way to live—not that she knew of, anyways. <br><br>This day was already proving to be a glorious one—she emerged from her tree to the warm noon of day, the emerald blades of grass still kissed with the rainfall of the night before. A svelte, delicate thing, Evie stood on the tips of her toes and stretched, brushing her fingertips across the lowest branch of her tree. It was her home and lifeline, and one could tell just by looking at her—the warm brown hue of her flesh matched that of the tree's bark, and the long waves of vivid green hair that fell over her shoulders and breasts could have passed for the ivy that crept up its trunk. <br><br>Yawning faintly, Evie blinked those pupil-less of solid, soft yellow and climbed, making her easy, leisurely way between the branches of countless trees as she made her way to the stream. <br><br>So far, this day was beginning like a thousand others.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Natural Inclinations [IronKitten &amp; adifferenceinsize]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>adifferenceinsize</strong> on <strong>08-03-2011, 08:39:10</strong>
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				The deep forests envelope over the verdant valleys and rough-hewn mountains as a heavily robed man treads alone through the wilderness. These deeper swaths of nature still so rarely feel the strike of human feet upon them, and the lone traveler's carry quite a tale along with his covered form. Several days from any settlements, he moves purposefully right away from the increasingly distant signs of habitation. The specifics of his story remain as shrouded as he is, however, until the sun begins to creep above the western forests, lengthening the shadows of the trees and mountains.<br><br>Coming upon a small pond formed from the runoff of melting snow from the peaks above, formed where a stream hit a dip in the descent, the figure stops and drops his outer layers onto a log a decent distance from the pool. A tall, lithe man is revealed, wearing a loose purple tunic that drapes over his broad shoulders, a pair of thick stockings of rich fabric which protect his legs and rest over his shorts, and a large, strained satchel hanging from the fore of his belt, bobbing with each step. The fair skin, fancy attire, and lighter hair make him stand out from the hunters and farmers that hug the edges of the deep forest and occassionally make their way within. In the safety of the clearing, his unconcerned steps ring out through the trees.<br><br>Sighing heavily, the man with the long sandy hair walks to the edge of the pond, overgrown with grass. He kneels down and runs a hand over a barren patch of soil. He chants softly as energy radiates in bands from his hand, and as he stands up, a ball of mud follows it, shaped by the bluish-purple energy wisps into a bowl shape. He turns his hand below it and catches the now-dried bowl reflexively. Spreading the grass, he leans down and ladles up some water. Before putting the bowl to his lips, he runs his other hand over it, concentrating as red tendrils strike through the water without disturbing it, pulling out the impurities and dropping them at the edge of the pond. He sips gingerly from his drink, a small smile creeping onto his thin lips.
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