Trellis
Pet Name: Trellis
Owner: Apache
Theme / Type: Overgrowth Mandoran
Born: December 10, 2010
Gender: Male
MisticPal Name: Gratitude
MisticPal Age: 4925 Days
Battle Portal Stats
Hit Points: 3 / 3
Strength: 5
Defense: 4
Speed: 6
Intellect: 4
Misticpower: 3
Battles Won: 0
Battles Lost: 0
| Attached Weapons | |
Books Read
Books Read: None
Exotic Foods Eaten
Foods Eaten: 2/1254 [ View Foods ]
1. - Cactus Drink
2. - Ginger Pommepadour
2. - Ginger Pommepadour
We are all dependent on voiceless lives for sacrifice. Be it for home, for food, for breath. Without them our lives would be for not, for we would perish.
I am talking, of course, of the plants around us. From the smallest clover, to the grandest oak, to the comely wildflower, they all bring to us through their existence or demise, a great gift almost imperceptible in its vastness.
I am here to pay penance, to give them back what little I can through sacrifices of my own.
I pledge myself to the tending of the voiceless.
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"The smaller the thing, the more important its role of life is to the world."
ID No. 18M
Trellis; "a structure of open latticework, especially one used as a support for vines and other creeping plants"
cynical || staunch || vulgar || reclusive
"The Hermit"
Trellis is like a living garden. He carries as many types of flora on his body as he can. He entwines them around himself like clothing.
He is a hermit and abhors company and people in general. He does well on his own, and insists on remaining independent.
Occasionally he will trade some of his vegetation, so that he might acquire other necessities, though he does so with reluctance. He can perk up a withered plant with only a touch and a whisper. He often leaves a trail of greenery in his wake, as plants can not help but flourish around him. He becomes very lethargic in the winter.
Trellis loves to sing, but will only do so when he 'alone' with his faithful plants.
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Ah with painted finished products,
still drab in my own eyes,
a lilt of brow and quirk of teeth
let me know that you think otherwise --
I groan in mock displeasure,
but of course you know much better:
your words are heartening,
my inspiration sparking --
tonight I sing for thou:
What a lonely thing, to wander this
and that -- here and there,
won't you come with me to
paradise?
I won't displease,
not while sunrise adorns its fire
simply for a want, a way
to counter its nemesis, the gaudiness of dawn.
I dare you, darling,
to follow rows of dancing wheat
and travel far to the abode of wildness,
where there is naught but...?
What is left then, I wonder?
Do you, I wonder, wonder with me?
Come, I asked,
far back, then, time long since passed,
and forgot all when you called,
"nay".
Dreary to remember then,
the way you broke my heart,
and bid me passively to mend --
and I did, didn't I, in a way that left a scar.
Sour said I, this heart of mine,
to sing no longer heartily,
and off I went to live amidst
green things that would not lie.
-----------~-~-~----------~~-~-~-~~----------~-~-~-----------
Sweet love on the lips of roses wilted. Sitting red on a counter-top, forgotten.
An ornate chair, crafted with a skill born from years of effort, on its side.
And lastly, a cottage with a door left swinging open.
Inside, love left cold. A heart broken.
Images flashed through my head. A painful memory. My great desire left unrequited.
I laid on the forest floor, littered with blood as red as roses.
Such perfect roses.
I coughed, a pitiful and meek noise. I was rewarded with sparks of pain. Crimson droplets rained from maw to dried and brittle leaves.
My arm laid stretched before me. I stared at it awhile. A piece of me, never wavering, me and myself.
The only one I trust.
I took a long, unsteady breath, and was almost immobilized with the pain. My chest hurt so badly. So incredibly badly.
I lifted my free arm to test my wounds, but found fear too great to make myself try. I let my arm fall, gently, but still the motion brought pain.
I did not remember what had happened. I was left, in sunlight filtered through the canopy, broken and bleeding with no idea the reason for my situation.
But it did not matter, I knew.
I was not going to survive this.
Overwhelming exhaustion permeated my existence. I did not struggle, if I could I might have, but as it was I was quiet and accepting of my fate. Moving was too much work. Everything was too much work.
Was love worth this?
This thought confused me. How is my state connected to (and I have trouble with this last word) love? It's not, I'm sure, but my thoughts are rambling.
Love is always worth the ride. Whether or not it lasts is not what matters.
I sighed and gave up thinking. Clearly my mind had been effected, I am sure that I have a head injury as well. It made no sense. But then again, it doesn't really need to.
Another breath, heavy and labored. I almost don't notice the pain.
Gold shined behind half-closed eyelids. Bright and calling, and yet... I was overcome with regret. I had so much to do.
So much life to live.
Whatever will was left in me I gathered. I tried to rise.
For a moment I was lost in blackness. Pain so strong I could not see. I gave up as quickly as I had started, there was no use.
I wept. On the edge of nonexistence, I wept for myself, my pain, my loss, my dreams.
Clear drops wet the already stained floor. It smelled of clean rotting earth, but also of death.
All I smell is roses.
I take my last and final breath -- or so I thought.
I had wished one last time for life, and dearly, of all things, the woods themselves heeded my most desperate wish. The gold-white faded and was replaced with green, everywhere a blinding green.
I was apart from my body for a while. I was numbed, and also surprised by such an alien experience. I floated for a while, aimless, blissful. And suddenly was careened back into sensation.
But, alas, painless! No broken bones, though the ground was still streaked with red.
Yet more than that, more than life, I could hear everything that grew from root to leaf. I felt aspirations and dreams, I knew their anger (what little of it there was) and I knew just how they loved.
And I, in kinship, loved with them.
I have thanked them many times, but words do not reveal.
They feel me as I feel them, and that is enough.
~
Trellis belongs to Apache.
Boxed Overgrowth on 5/15/11!
[Pound pet makeover project. Thanks so much to RuthieRox!]
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