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Last Stand of the Star Socks Fox and the Truth of Stars

Darkkin

Lioness of Spoons
V.I.P Member
Spoons and Stars

A line in the sand, held hard at the 36th Parallel
at the cliff face the famed and fabled Star Socks
and a troll of unprecedented bitterness and wrath
who blocked the forward and backway unto right.

And Star Socks, who had faced the Right Hand
of the No Man down, now saw the chasm loom,
an abyss of twisted anger, the need to hurt, but
most importantly destroy all who dared to shine.

Poor Star Socks Fox, damned for his own love
of parables, legends, lores kept safe in his stars.
Stars that had damned him to the wrath of him,
this Abyssal Troll, whose hatred was of Darker.

Darker, a plague of doubt and bitterness that
fed on the intrinsic brightness of strong souls,
and Star Socks Fox, time after time, had stood
his ground to protect those of his oddment ilk.

Now, Star stared that Abyssal Troll in the eyes.
Fear was alive on the back of his oversized ears,
but he kept his head, pondered what Lore would
hear the Prayer of the Star Socks Fox at the End.

Errant, Scarab Knight clad in Ishtar blue, spied—
from a nearby pillar of basalt, and took to wing.
There were none nearer, as all had gone to aid
the Wild Dogs who held the Tenebrous Wold.

Star Socks Fox alone, as the Abyssal Troll with
with fingers infected by Darker plague reached
to rip those tarnished stars from the cobalt socks,
and one by one, star by star, lights began to die.

Yet Star Socks Fox knew that to bite at the beast
would only hasten his own doom by way of more
Darker plague infecting more of his precious stars
if he were to strike out at the source of the Monger.

Good Errant flew as fast as his wings could beat—
to find his beloved Tribal Queen, the old Lioness,
Spoon, for she alone held the knowledge needed
to stop the Abyssal Troll and control the Darker.


Last Stand of the Star Socks Fox

Abyssal plague rolled through Star’s light as rain across a plain,
and steadfast Star, once so brazen and bright, began to shriek
in terror and bitter pain. His stories, constellations were dying.

There at the 36th Parallel he had taken a foolish stand, stalwart
and utterly alone. He had challenged an evil, relentless quest—
a march of the Abyssal Troll to gain the gate at the 37th Parallel.

And it was at the Speed of Dark that his terror imbued Prayers
went out as his stars winked out, smothered by the deep Darker.
Faster than his beloved starlight through the dark the call flew.

Fennec, the Pocket Fox watched as his paws, already velvet dark
began to fade were he stood. Absolute black consumed him whole,
his golden veil striped away, his wondrous pocket now locked tight.

Sable, the Tibbox Headed Fox, sewn of blocks and scraps of a pelt,
given by the Selkie Toxic White, saw the intoxicating brightness
of his pelt fade to a worn and withered grey, as the cold crept in…

And astride the great black Cob of Death, Malign Hellebore Pi
felt the axis of the their dreamsand world shift violently to Death—
Ebb, the Swan of Death, now flew to collect the Star Socks Fox.

The Darker had claimed the Fox stars through a bitter cold wrath,
and there was nothing to be done, but watch the dreamsand world
as it crumbled and fell into the Abyss of Nothing. Death to come.

The Star Socks Fox, the stories of the constellations now screamed,
a thread woven through a world pulled just right, reality unravelled.
Death was the last, the only truth that remained. Death now came.

And with him, she rode. Malign Hellebore Pi, a wing striped fae,
misunderstood and morally grey until such a time as she saw truth,
and determined an action to be wrong or right in black and white.

Now was the time she knew would come, so on the wings of Death,
she rode, hell bright hair and dragon eyed, Ebb at the Speed of Dark.
For Deeper Dark is what she would need to challenge the dying stars.

Flo, the White Pen of Life, too felt the tug of the axial shift and flew,
to find them before they were completely lost, the Tibbox, Fennec—
and the burning fox kit, Ember, the patterns and tides were shattered.

Foxes at war, Flo searched in blatant defiance of the Last Throe Laws,
for they were stronger together than they were apart, these lost Foxes,
but what could such dying stars do against such reckless rage and hate?

Pi and Flo knew of the power that went deeper than stories told by the sky.
They knew of the forces the fading stars still held, even as their light died.
And just as darkness consumed the Swan’s stars, could it save Star Socks?
 

Darkkin

Lioness of Spoons
V.I.P Member
20230123_202119.jpg


I can't draw to save my life, but I have figured out I can trace and template images when I mess around with watercolours. I transfer the tracing to a sheet of watercolour paper using a craft knife and retrace the outline. I started Star Sock Fox tonight and it isn't dreadful.
 

Darkkin

Lioness of Spoons
V.I.P Member
20230202_212053.jpg


Still a work in progess, but I started adding colour to Star Socks Fox. This template is watercolour pencil. I have another I plan on doing in just plain watercolour.
 

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