Every year about this time, the leaves of Spiritwood begin to usher in the changing of the season. Autumn has officially arrived and a quiet hush falls over the land in anticipation of the beginning of what many call the holiday season. First the dead walk again with fury and resentment trying to bring every living soul into his last breath. But there are always those, and again this season as well, who rise to the challenge and banish the dead from the land of the living. Barely catching our breath from the Dance with the Dead, the land is flung into another time of frenzied activity. For the answer to one question... well perhaps two questions wrapped into one: WHITE OR DARK? The land flourishes with acivity once again. Travelers from all over the land pass throught regions they may have never traveled before. Why? Your ask. What is the reason for all this activity? Tis where you get the answer to the question that has been with mankind since the dawning. This is the time of the season that brings all out into the wild to track down those elusive but powerful turkeys: The holders of white and dark. And yes I, too, become engrossed in this yearly ritual to pull from these savage beasts that which we all crave until we are sickened of it and swear to never eat again. I run the lengths of the Spiritwood in search of these that would claim my very life if given the chance to hit me. The battles are always fierce. It is an arduous task to bring about the demise of these tasty creatures. And yet, into the fray we continue to throw ourselves, blinded by the insatiable desire to pull a drumstick. All other tasks and responsibilities are abandoned. On and on we search and track and battle to answer that question. With unbridled fury, we continue night and day to the point of exhaustion, to bring down as many as we can in the alloted season know as Thanksgiving. And when the season is over, having wrrested from these oversized-birds that which we desire, we sit back in our chairs and await the next rush of the season. "I hear sleigh bells ringing." So, my fellow overstuffed hunters of drumsticks, Did we all answer the question? What shall it be: White or Dark? Those are your choices.
A wonderful tribute to autumn, Oni! I look forward to crossing paths with you in the wild. A stout man who knows his way about the dragons just brought a veritable pile of drumsticks to our guild hall. "Butters," I asked, "but, where is the white meat?" He cackled and rode away to his dragons. Odd, I didn't remember him wearing that pilgrim's hat before today...
As to our paths crosssing, my path walking usually occurs in the evening\night of the Realm time CST. As for the absence of the white meat, mayhaps the dragons are preferential to it. *Dons her pilgrim bonnet*
