Whimsical-Realist

Night came quietly following the meeting of the wildling and the witch. Ren tore himself from his daydreaming as he remembered his responsibilities. Giving the dead unicorn a final, disdainful glare, he shook the dampness from his furred limbs before raising his head to utter a haunting call into the air. Within moments, other voices from various, far-flung corners of the forest echoed back in reply. Ren only gave a relieved snort after he heard the sixth. Good, they were all safe. One by one, six other wildlings would arrive in the clearing as the sun vanished behind the mountains and cast them into growing shadows, their eyes adjusting eas

Sing me a song Of yesterday’s goodbyes. Let me drift away With all the could-have-been's. I’m lost In thoughts of what has gone, Of what can never be again. I dwell On imagined lovers, And the faded daydreams they inspired. Stop to visit all the ruins That my own hands brought about. It surely isn't healthy, Keeping what is best forgotten. Do they think of me, Or am I the only one To sit up in the shadows, Remembering them in pieces? Do they know What they did? Do they know How they changed me? Do they know That I still can’t let it all go? They all move on And so must I. But in the lonely shadows, I still wonder. Did

All the unicorns are dead, At least the ones inside my head. All the magic and the wonder, Burned to cinders, torn asunder. I’ve run out of fairy dust And no amount of clapping Can bring them back. The looking glass is just A mirror. The second star to the right Went supernova. The wardrobe is full Of the skeletons I collect. All the unicorns are dead, Leaving emptiness instead. All the hopes and all the dreams, Snuffed out, so it seems. No more dust. Too weak to clap. Can’t go back. The mirror shows a Tired soul. The dead star flickers, A flame before the wind. Skeletons rattle against the door, Speaking poison. All th

"You're driving too fast, Cal!" Jake groaned, clinging to the little handle on the roof of the car. "Hey! My car, my rules!" his friend snapped back, making a point of putting the pedal down even more. "Besides, we're in the middle of fuckin' nowhere. Nothingness as far as the eye. Can. See." The Hawaiian native sighed, closing his eyes and praying for his carsickness to go away. He wasn't used to being in vehicles this long…why hadn't he just taken a flight to California? Oh right, he was broke. So very, very broke. But he wasn't going to miss his best bro's wedding! So desperate times called for desperate measures. He had called upon his

Jiao Brewsong sat by her campfire with a sour expression, listlessly sharpening her pair of jade-hilted daggers. It was a cold night, the fire and her travel cloak doing little to take the bit out of the bitter wind howling through the valley she was camping in. A crumpled set of orders was catching flame where she'd thrown it, the blaze as eager as she was to have it destroyed. But the order still stood, no matter what she did: SI:7 wanted her to assassinate Kang Goldtree. The Pandaren woman sighed, chewing at her lower lip. How had it come to this? The Kor'kron had intercepted the order thanks to a particularly talented tracker. Had the su

"Are you ready to go, Miss Crocker?" Sitting at her desk, the young heiress looked up from a spreadsheet on her laptop. A warm smile spread as she saw that it was Dirk standing in the doorway, his red and black suit cleanly pressed as always. "What have I told you about calling me 'Miss Crocker', Dirk?" she sighed, closing the device. "We're friends, just call me Jane." "It's against protocol," he replied with his time-rehearsed response. "Poppycock, I'll have protocol changed, then," she sighed, arms crossing over her chest. "You know the Baroness wouldn't allow it." "Ugh, well someday I will be Baroness and that will be my first actio