Hydro Never Mixes To Pryo

By the bard it was deep and smelled of trees, even some must but there was a peace that gave this dank world life. THe floor was mossy and covered with twigs, leaves, branches and stones; by all means it was hard to trudge through but yet here it was a small thin stream flowing through the wooded area away from a fall. Though the smell drove only one being nuts and it was an Undead named Geibel, he loved the smell but it was so strong out here. Why? There was a water fall near by and he could feel it in his bones, the water in his lungs still made him feel sick about it. Though it was odd that he did not like water but deep down in his soul, a meory he had long forgoten lingered. A memory of how he truly died. Drowning made him scared of the water.

Walking through the forest he came to the falls and twitched as he stared, "By the light over my soul. Why do I fear it?" he stepped closer and knelt down, he reached out with a wince and touched the cold water. A wave of burning pain went through him and he stood gagging, "I love rain yet not pools or streams or falls? If this soul knew he would be happy." With that he stabbed his scythe into the dirt and grabbed a stone. Realing his arm back he chucked it across the water, his swollen black eyes blinked slowly as he thought of that strange sensation. It had been like he was on fire till a second passed and it all went out and he felt crushed. Geibel began to skip stones as he stood before the water feeling rather lost.

Alathorn walked up to the falls and paused as he looked at the person, or rather undead, skipping stones on it. He blinked several times at the emotions coming off the man and shook his head. His natural telepathy and empathy were beginning to become an annoyance. He sighed and walked over to the undead man. "Hello," he said. "I'm sorry and this might seem crazy but... You wanted to know why you're afraid of the water, right?"

He sighed and shook his head again. "Again I am sorry. You see... My name is Alathorn and I can't help myself sometimes. I have a natural telepathy and empathy. Your fear and confusion caught my senses and my telepathy accidentally kicked in." He rubbed the back of his neck in an apologetic manor.

"Oh by the days there goes the tame!" said the figure with such an unnaturally perfect tone it was strange that it was not decayed. He tossed a stone up and down before holding it in his palm tightly making the stitching on his fingers grunt and groan, "By its might shall it be glass!" he said with glee before flicking his wrist and snapping his fingers as the stone left his hand. The stone heated instantly and turned into glass and slid smoothly over the water and vanished, never to be seen again. By all right he was strange but as well as a poet, he loved poetry.

The sounds, animals, bugs, and plants made his magic strong sometimes. Soon he skipped another stone and he could hear the pitter patter of a heart, to be honest he couldn't tell if it was Human or Elf. Both had the same heart beat. Though the scent was Human, he could smell it. Pausing his shoulders and body stiffened , raising a brow he twirled on his heel to face the man and blinked, one lid at a time. Lifting a hand he put it under his own chin and the other rested on his own elbow and he leaned closer, "Vy can you say such things? My brain is mush!" He tapped his head before pacing around Alathorn.

"Apologizing for entering the mind of an already curious being vy this is just not as reckoned! By the fire - you can tell me vat I seek yes? Perchance du may say this reason or will it go away and be forgotten? I have lived long with no answer." he pretty much said he was curious on the apology as well as the fact he read his emotions, if that was true. He'd love to learn why he was scared.