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Coming to Grips with the Mountains and Valleys of This World

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Gift Gugu Mona

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“He felt the magic pouring through his body. The tattoo twitched and with a shout of pain Vasilli could not hold in, the creature pulled itself from his body. It flopped, bloody as a newborn onto the ground and stretched its wings. It started to cry and grew to the size of a horse before it turned to Vasilli and lowered itself in a bow. “How may I serve, Master?” Its voice rasped through a mouth of venomous fangs.”

MagicBloodCreatureVasilli
Book:Cry of the Firebird
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“Oh, and Aramis? There is something else about the girl that you should know.” “Yes?” “She is of Yanka’s blood line. That won’t be an issue for you will it?” “No sir.” Aramis hung up the phone quickly and tried not to drop it as he put it in his coat. His hands trembled as he tried to maintain a cool, professional façade. Yanka’s blood. He had to find her and fast.”

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Book:Cry of the Firebird
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“For this last, Before and in Corioli, let me say, I cannot speak him home: he stopp'd the fliers; And by his rare example made the coward Turn terror into sport: as weeds before A vessel under sail, so men obey'd And fell below his stem: his sword, death's stamp, Where it did mark, it took; from face to foot He was a thing of blood, whose every motion Was timed with dying cries: alone he enter'd The mortal gate of the city, which he painted With shunless destiny; aidless came off, And with a sudden reinforcement struck Corioli like a planet: now all's his: When, by and by, the din of war gan pierce His ready sense; then straight his doubled spirit Re-quicken'd what in flesh was fatigate, And to the battle came he; where he did Run reeking o'er the lives of men, as if 'Twere a perpetual spoil: and till we call'd Both field and city ours, he never stood To ease his breast with panting.”

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Author:William Shakespeare
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