Copyright

I am flattered that some feel my creative writing is entertaining enough to want to share with others. These stories, however, are a labor of love and are ever evolving. Direct copying of any of these stories would not be flattering at all. If you would like to share with others you may copy a portion of a story and then link to the original here. Thank you for understanding.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Owakeri's Autobiography - Entry 18

Sometime in the middle of the night, in one form or another, the old man had gotten up and left the tent where Mimeteh was keeping watch. He wandered, half asleep, confused, and alone, before coming to rest in a cave in the Stonetalon Mountains. In the morning he woke with a start, unsure of where he was, he rooted through the small bag at his side and came across a small journal. He furrowed his brow, hadn't the girl in his tent been looking at this?

He flips it open to a random page, there was a sketch of a tauren woman in her late 30's early 40's with a small tattoo of a paw below her left eye. The sketch and the words on the opposing page are finely done by someone who has had training as a scribe. After examining the sketch for a while he looks to the opposite page to read.

Aneketa Brightmoon, uses the name Lindiwe. Daughter of Owakeri and Onawa Brightmoon. Raised by trolls after seperated from family. Runs the Brightmoon Faire after sister Ameyah left abruptly. Dating a blood elf named Astenya. Training as a druid with Bullzilla. Wants to learn to be a healer, might learn from Owakeri. That's you, you dumbass. Had a drinking problem, may have sobered up after training with Bullzilla. Formerly on the council of druids. Hates her father (again, that's you) but puts on a good show for the sake of the marks and carnies.

The old tauren slams the book shut and pinches the wide bridge of his muzzel, pressing his eyes shut a moment. Shaking his head he opens the book to another random page, there is another sketch and more careful text. The picture is that of a grown tauren woman, pale and reserved and four children. The oldest is in her late teens and is scowling, her head turned away from the group. The next are a boy and a girl about the same age, looking at each other. The last is a toddling girl pulling on the woman's skirt. Owakeri reaches out and touches the woman's face, his eyes watering from all the dust in the cave. After a moment he reads the captions.

Onawetaya, who refuses to use your name because you are a complete and total idiot. She's your wife. Mimeteh is her little sister, but grew up with your kids. Ameyah and Akikta, the twins. Akikta's dead now. Imi, the youngest. Onawetaya isn't speaking to you, Mimeteh hates you, Ameyah won't come near you, your son is dead and you haven't seen Imi since she left for training with the Circle. So much for family, old man... you really screwed this one up.

The moisture in his eyes built up enough that a tear formed and slid down the fur of his face, he nods and speaks to the book in a quiet and tight voice, "yes, I remember that much at least." Again he lifts one large finger to gently stroke the sketch of his current wife and most recent family.

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