Hoshi
Well-Known Member
Ayenee Capital City
Ayenee Tavern
There was a general unease in the little flame's center of mass as the cooler air under it rushed upwards. There was a bobbing and floating motion to it, an unconscious act on the flame's part, as it remained quasi-tethered to the wick of the candle. The bottom of the fire created a melted pool of wax and its vapor fed upwards until providing fuel for the little flame to live on. It was not self-sustaining, though, and knew that.
It wondered when a specter would come to allow the flame enough time to clamber on —heart, soul, and all— to a new host. There was no way for the little flame to know as the ill at ease feeling pursued to reside at the base of the fire. The specters had lessened their activity in the once-bustling Tavern. The flame knew not when or if they would get to the task of saving its life. That depended on a good many things, and whether or not guests would come.
It watched as the purple light of a setting sun lit up segments of the room while the wooden tavern door creaked open. As the open entryway let in the stream of the sunset's drawling end, the flame perked from its place on the bar's corner, close to the door. Swaying left and then jerking right, it was apparently moving in an unsettling manner to anyone that was used to non-sentient fire.
Ayenee Tavern
There was a general unease in the little flame's center of mass as the cooler air under it rushed upwards. There was a bobbing and floating motion to it, an unconscious act on the flame's part, as it remained quasi-tethered to the wick of the candle. The bottom of the fire created a melted pool of wax and its vapor fed upwards until providing fuel for the little flame to live on. It was not self-sustaining, though, and knew that.
It wondered when a specter would come to allow the flame enough time to clamber on —heart, soul, and all— to a new host. There was no way for the little flame to know as the ill at ease feeling pursued to reside at the base of the fire. The specters had lessened their activity in the once-bustling Tavern. The flame knew not when or if they would get to the task of saving its life. That depended on a good many things, and whether or not guests would come.
It watched as the purple light of a setting sun lit up segments of the room while the wooden tavern door creaked open. As the open entryway let in the stream of the sunset's drawling end, the flame perked from its place on the bar's corner, close to the door. Swaying left and then jerking right, it was apparently moving in an unsettling manner to anyone that was used to non-sentient fire.