The gardens were quiet, as the sun settled in the west and the shadows stretched out their lengthened fingers, sweeping across the grounds and casting odd shapes upon the soft turf. The birds were mostly silent, the threat of rain looming to the north as the breeze continued to blow, ever presently, from the highlands. No doubt, come morning, the streets would be turned to mud and mess as the rain beat down in torrents, the thunderclouds that lingered just out of range speaking of such weather.
For now,
Allion basked in the calm before the storm, leaned against the sturdy trunk of a willow, bowed from age, and carrying a heavy curtain of green that would, eventually, see its limbs snapped and broken. For nothing was timeless. All things were carried through the current of time, be it upon a raft made of ever dubious planks, or a secure freighter, plowing gently along on its voyage to unknown locations. All things but he, it seemed.
Glancing upwards through the bent branches, he observed the sky, streaked in arrays of gold and orange, pink and blue, in silence. There was one other who never seemed to bow to the will of time; the hand of Mother Nature creating a current all her own, individualised for each living thing, even those that did not have sentient thought, nor reason or rhyme. She was a curious thing to behold, indeed.
Soft music drifted to his ears, a harmonious voice lilting on the evening breeze. Foreign words one might no expect to hear in a voice so young. He remained unmoved, letting the song wash over him, settle a quiet sense of peace in his heart for the moment. All to soon, it seemed, the silence fell back into place, but with quietly stirred curiosity, he chose to move away from his hidden place, moving towards the source of the song.
A young girl, as he had thought, soft features and flowing clothes, long hair and a gentle smile. He made no effort to hide himself, remaining stationed between two tall trees as her gaze fell upon him, the shadows cast by the failing sun smothering half his profile from view in any case. Still, he waited for her, or her silent companion of greased fingers and tiny, metallic items, to speak first.
