Monday, April 27, 2009

Pasherpa-ers: Shadowfox

Someone took a really, really looooong time to figure out the secret of these writings. It was extremely, agonizingly, ridiculously, and outrageously long, it made the person look like a stupid overrated baboon. Anyway, avoid, if you must, the Tolkien connotation.

He rode all night, swiftly, down the rugged valley of desolation, and into the forest – pitch-black, silent, and eerie.

With every step that his golden stallion took on the forest floor, the necklace that hung around his neck bounced in the air, as if to demand its freedom, but never reaching far enough with a strength strong enough to break free from its owner.

The darkness crept all around them, as all sorts of sounds and visions came to life.

But the rider knows, Gandalf needs the necklace.

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