View allAll Photos Tagged Lacks

Please excuse the harsh mid-day light and total lack of clouds in the sky, I'm not used to taking photos in these sort of conditions....

With my recent lack of inspiration and motivation, it was great to listen to one of my favourite landscape photographers, David Ward, at the Photography Show yesterday. He talked about colour, and the effects it has on our eye, as well as how we can use colour when composing an image. As I drove past this field earlier I saw the red tractor on his way up the hill, and was instantly reminded of what he had said. Using a longer focal length to get in closer to the action I waited for the tractor to start his incline before firing the trigger.

 

Canon EOS 5D Mark III|70-200mm f4 L IS

 

I've been teaching Poppy photography, take a look at her Flickr.

 

Facebook | Twitter | Website

I'm not sure if their mood resulted from lack of coffee, hangovers, jet-lag, being up at 7:30am on a hot Saturday morning, or having to wait too long--possibly a combination of all of the above. This picture is almost entirely un-posed, as all I did was tell them to sit still and hold it. There's nothing like turning around and seeing a bunch of dejected Sith Lords waiting for a parade to start. I wish I'd been toting my Holga.

 

I opted to not cheese it out by editing lightsabers in, due to their unfortunate positioning. These guys might be depressed, but they're certainly not suicidal. ;-)

To sum up things, my CPL is in shards. RIP

"and when i see you

i really see you upside down

but my brain knows better

it picks you up and turns you around

turns you around, turns you around...

 

if you feel discouraged

that there's a lack of color here

please don't worry lover

it's really bursting at the seams...."

 

death cab for cutie

 

Something very blah.

 

Sorry for the lack of photos. I haven't been able to shoot a lot lately, so here's just a little shot to show my Moleskine love (once again!).

Have a nice weekend everyone!

 

(I'm listening to this song lately)

Sorry for the lack of photos - we've been very busy with the puppies, the garden, training the big dogs and spending time with friends.

Providing the rear end power to a Paddington – West Country express at Exeter St Davids on the 5th June 1982 is 43007.

 

Locomotive History

43007 was built at Crewe Works for Great Western Main Line services and entered traffic in March 1976 as part of HST set 253003. It remained on Great Western Main Line services until 1998 when due to lack of ATP equipment it was transferred to West Coast duties operated by Virgin. It remained with Virgin until 2002 when it transferred to the Midland Main Line fleet. 43007 entered Brush, Loughborough in August 2008 to be “re-engineered” and has had its original Paxman Valenta engine replaced by a MTU unit. It re-entered service on Cross Country services in December 2008 and was re-numbered 43207.

 

Withdrawn in September 2023 it was exported to Mexico in February 2024 for further use.

 

Canon AT1, Kodachrome 64

Niagara-on-the-Lacke, est une ville canadienne située près de l'endroit où la rivière Niagara rencontre le lac Ontario dans la région de Niagara du sud de l'Ontario. Elle est située de l'autre côté de la rivière Niagara de Youngstown , New-York .

Canon EF100-400mm f/4.5-5.6L IS USM

The forensic psychologist Gustave M. Gilbert categorised Rudolf Höss as mentally normal with schizoid apathy and lack of emotion. During the interrogations, Gilbert described him as patient, matter-of-fact and dispassionate. Höss was characterised by his foresighted conscientiousness and diligence, always in the service of a higher authority. (Gustave M. Gilbert: Nuremberg Diary. Fischer, Frankfurt am Main, 1962)

On 16 April 1947, the former commandant of the Auschwitz extermination camp, Rudolf Höss, was executed by hanging from this gallows on the grounds of the Auschwitz I main camp in front of his former home adjacent to the camp. It is said that he did not understand until the end why he was called to account, as he had only carried out orders.

Former Auschwitz I concentration camp - main camp

Lesser Poland, Poland 20.10.2019

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rudolf_H%C3%B6ss

www.youtube.com/watch?v=r-vfg3KkV54

 

Bestrafung ohne Sühne

Der forensische Psychologe Gustave M. Gilbert stufte Rudolf Höss als geistig normal mit schizoider Apathie und Emotionslosigkeit ein. Gilbert beschrieb ihn während der Verhöre als geduldig, sachlich und leidenschaftslos. Höß zeichnete sich durch seine vorausschauende Gewissenhaftigkeit und seinen Fleiß aus, immer im Dienste einer höheren Instanz. (Gustave M. Gilbert: Nürnberger Tagebuch. Fischer, Frankfurt am Main, 1962)

Am 16. April 1947 wurde der ehemalige Kommandant des Vernichtungslagers Auschwitz, Rudolf Höss, durch Erhängen an diesem Galgen auf dem Gelände des Stammlagers Auschwitz I vor seinem ehemaligen Wohnhaus am Rand des Lagers hingerichtet. Angeblich verstand er bis zum Schluss nicht, warum er zur Rechenschaft gezogen wurde, da er nur Befehle ausgeführt hatte.

Ehemaliges Konzentrationslager Auschwitz I - Hauptlager

Kleinpolen, Polen 20.10.2019

www.welt.de/geschichte/article244198987/Rudolf-Hoess-Man-...

www.spiegel.de/geschichte/nazi-jaeger-hanns-alexander-auf...

www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sptm2XTqjDY

One of the Bushy Heron's taken a while back now.

 

Sorry for the lack of activity recently but it was two weeks ago today that my Mum sadly passed away. I'll try and catch up when I can.

lack of understanding breeds hatred of other people... we should try to tune-in... my travel diary, with musical innuendos by Björk and Mily A. Balakirev.

Syrian Woodpecker looks very similar to Great Spotted Woodpecker except it lacks that black bar across its cheek leaving a huge patch of white on the face. I think it looks familiar, yet oddly unfamiliar at the same time. The red on the undertail is also notably paler in Syrian. This is a female Syrian Woodpecker, lacking red on the nape, but here's a male Great Spotted for comparison: www.flickr.com/photos/timmelling/51913921613/in/photolist Despite the name Syrian Woodpeckers are not restricted to Syria as it breeds from the Middle East north through SE Europe as far as Poland, and east to Iran, Ukraine and Russia. It was given the English name from its scientific name syriacus, described in 1833 from a specimen taken on Mount Lebanon. I have seen Syrian Woodpecker on a number of occasions in various countries but have always found them to be shy and inconspicuous. This photograph I took in an orchard in Turkey was the first time I have managed to point a camera at one.

 

I am not expecting much attention as I think in thumbnail this will be passed off as an average shot of a Great Spotted Woodpecker. I typed the scientific name into Flickr and it came up with 665 photos, but quite a few were misidentified Great Spots. To compare I typed Great Spot's scientific name and it came up with 34 thousand images.

AI assisted image according to my instructions, rendered as Vintage ink drawing with sepia hues and finished with my handmade chiaroscuro digital painting and post-processure.

 

PROLOGUE: I support any means and tools to make and improve art. And I second the idea that AI doesn't need to be criminalized, but, instead, supported. Obviously, not indiscriminately but in the right places, in the suitable groups, with ponder and gut and with the right artists. (See my quest here below and in my considerations down in the comments roll).

 

EXCERPT :

"With AI you can create ugly monsters as well as beautiful creatures

(or even beautiful monsters) but the artistic level you can realize and appreciate

when, in both cases, you don't just leave the prompt result unaltered but, instead,

you improve* it with your hands, especially to correct errors and distortions

(like feet detached from legs, 7 fingered hands, distorted eyes and various

other several mutilations)."

 

*or, as my new Friend & AI master Philip says "Anatomically and surgically enhanced".

 

Are you beginning to be annoyed by AI ? Then readdit:

I hope my modern Hentai with a Vintage spirit will be liked or held per interesting enough to proceed reading what matters me the most on a serious criticality about the wrong usage of the Artificial Intelligence which is overflowing and overwhelming a lot.

 

This odd image has been inspired to me by watching some poorly done AI pics, for instance a woman meant to be a normal woman, even sexy, when the "prompt commissioner" didn't pay attention to the fact the picture was generated with deformed/distorted limbs, extra-long totally unproportioned feet, hands with 6/7 fingers or even disconnected from the wrists.

I am not meaning those creatures that intentionally are made with dark or naughty appearance (like fantasy vampires etc.) but to the figurative imagery that is believed to be perfect by whom directed the AI prompt without even bothering to move his hands to refine and improve what sorted out.

This let me deduce some people, due to lazyness or lack of talent, generate an AI image but can't help editing and refining it to make it pleasurable or realistic and they yet dare to call them "women" or "girls" without considering they generated distrofic bodies which may be disappointing and disturbing for the viewer or, if you prefer, just call them less than trash.

So, I been willing to generate a very stylistic monster where, even the distrofic body parts are as intentional as well cared and edited by applying a good processure, retouching and even some digital painting.

All in all, the final result looks like to me more acceptable and elegant than some careless distorted images made to resemble real and that someone dares to call "art" ;-)

 

>>> Even if I am not at all a AI expert, a lil hint I experienced by myself, for those who are not or not yet able to recognize if an image is a AI and if it has a dignity or not: look at the eyes, the limbs and especially the hands of the body. If you see many errors, that is for sure AI but, especially, a poorly done image where the "author" didn't engage at all to improve it, probably due to lack of skills.

 

I have seen beautiful AI imagines, full of poetry and so pleasurable but, guess what, when, instead, they are poorly done, it's typical to see them dumped in zillions of depot groups.

(For more, read the comment boxes below. As usual, I welcome anyone interested in taking part in the dialogue exchanging ideas in a respectful confrontation).

  

I lacked creativity and originality all day long. But as it was my only day off, I desperately wanted to go out shooting. All of the places I frequent with my camera were disappointing in one way or another. One of the many, many complaints I voiced to the zero people I spent my day with, was that there were not more dead bugs in the vicinity.

Now and again I do shoot normal pictures at normal times of the day, without ambushing passersby or waving flashlights around. This is one of them.

 

It's an early morning view of the Logarska Dolina valley. The buildings to the far left are the Lenar Tourist Farm, which I've recommended before and will do again. The main bed in the apartment we stayed in looks straight out onto these mountains, and - though it was six in the morning - having seen them in this light I couldn't go back to sleep.

 

This frame is a daylight version of this night view shot last summer. Only, whilst the summer shot had flowers in the meadows, the trees are only just coming into leaf here.

 

I've pushed pixels around a little - lifting the foreground shadow, and pulling down the sky. Even so, I wonder if this is really a shot for late afternoon - the postcards I see of the place are all shot then, with the light coming in from the right, bringing some more contrast and warmth over the lower slopes and valley floor. Nonetheless, even if the valley floor lacks a little punch in this light, I do like the bright, morning glow on the crags of rock.

 

I listened recently to an interview with Kenneth Parker, talking about the difference in light between morning and evening time. He describes the lack of dust and haze, and the fresh feel of early morning light compared to sunset. I'm not sure I shot it perfectly, but being out in the crisp morning watching the light play across this scene crystalised his words. Lesson learned - I need to head out early more often!

 

Hope everyone is having a great week; catching up now.

Lack of WiFi in the hotel means that you lucky people can't see my picture of choice.

Better luck next time?

A lack of clouds spoilt what would have been a beautiful start to the day. The undulations and trees rise above the misty pools in the New Forest

Ghost plant or ghost pipe or Indian pipe or it’s Latin name is Monotropa a plant that lacks chlorophyll a very interesting plant at Duffins trail in Discovery bay , macro , closeup photograph , Martin’s photographs , Ajax , Ontario , Canada , July 14. 2021

Indian pipe

Ghost plant

Ghost pipe

A fallen tree

Monotropa a plant that lacks chlorophyll

smaller trees

Shadows

Reflections

Garter snake

Large mushroom

Horsetails

Fungi

Duffins creek

Discovery bay

cropped photograph

closeup photograph

Martin’s photographs

Ajax

Ontario

Canada

May 2021

July 2021

June 2021

Favourites

IPhone XR

Mushroom

Large Mushroom

wildflowers

Trout lilies

Trilliums

Solomon’s seal and

white Deadnetles

Duffins trail

River

Dogwood

Favourites

White Trilliums

Unique shaped tree

Duffins marsh

Duffins creek

Ferns

Trilliums

IPhone 6s

Two dark and impenetrable apertures mark the countenance of the cliff-face that faces Middle Frijoles Creek in Bandolier National Monument, New Mexico.

 

The Park Service has semi-restored several of the ancient dwellings in an attempt to better illustrate to visitors what the spaces might have looked like during the time of the most recent Ancestral Puebloan inhabitants. I was unable to find out what the modern Pueblo think of this enhancement or tampering, whichever your perspective.

 

Most times I don't bother investigating what a monochrome version looks like when I process an image. I gravitate toward the color because usually the interplay of hues adds something to the image, at least to my eyes. However, sometimes when there isn't much color variation to begin with, such as in this image, I find that monochrome can be worth exploring. This is also true if the color combination simply doesn't add much to the mind's liking. For example, in this image of Longs Peak, the original colors were simply uninteresting and the moon lacked contrast against a brightening blue sky. The monochrome images of both the Bandolier portals and Longs Peak seem better to me in terms of visual impact.

 

Agree, disagree? Why? I suppose it's hard to really respond unless I post the color versions, isn't it?

The juvenile lacks the characteristic bay-head of adults.

 

Photographed at Las Tangaras reserve (in the Pacific slope of the Western Andes of Colombia).

 

Visit our web page: www.birdingtourscolombia.com

Follow us on Twitter: twitter.com/BirdingToursCol

Follow us on Facebook: www.facebook.com/birdingtourscolombia

Along the Mississippi River at Winona, MN the Chicago & Northwestern arrived, sorted, and departed their trains for South Dakota and Wisconsin in this relatively small 13 track yard. Mergers over the past 25 years have taken these once great railroads away from us resulting in even bigger railroad companies. So left to right are a Santa Fe, and two Chicago & Northwestern covered hoppers used mainly for hauling grain and Burlington Northern number 686072 a covered steel coil car built six month earlier. Lack of graffiti makes this an outstanding image!!!

Gooseberries (Rives uva-crispa) / Stachelbeeren

---

Please do not place advertising, images or comment code on my Flickr pages. It disturbs other users while reading.

 

Unfortunately, due to lack of time, I cannot respond appropriately to the otherwise very appreciated comments. Therefore, the comment function on this page is temporarily disabled.

/

Wegen Zeitmangel kann ich leider nicht angemessen auf die sonst sehr geschätzten Kommentare reagieren. Deshalb ist auf dieser Seite die Kommentarfunktion vorübergehend deaktiviert.

Not the best photo due but will be adequate for the lack of access during lockdown.

 

Lothian Buses new fleet of Volvo Evora have started finally to enter service. They are to be mostly introduced for route 30 to help with the limited capacity this route can take as a single decker only route.

 

Whilst out for my walk today I managed to photograph some on their first day.

 

Here is Lothian 71 already taking a trip on another route, route 2 seen at Balgreen heading to The Jewel. 13th January 2021.

...leads to taking dissaponting pictures. =/

2 more in comments.

 

If you think any of the ones in the comments are worth posting seperately, let me know.

 

I had 2 shoots since this one; as soon as I'm finished editing the photos, I will get on putting together a stop motion from this day.

Original creation I did -- made this for the lack of anything else I seem to be able to do right now, I've seemed to have lost my direction...hoping the current can help to get to a better place.

 

Image created by Zeeva Quintessa

Software: Artrage and GIMP

Hardware: Wacom Bamboo Creative

© All Rights Reserved. Please do not use this image on websites, blogs or other media without my prior permission.

 

. . . sometimes.

 

Yesterday, the weather was almost perfect (save for a lack of distinctive clouds and a considerable wind), with temperatures in the 70's and abundant sunshine. So, naturally, I drove out into the country. I was originally going to explore the far southeast corner of Nebraska, but got a later than planned start, so settled on a section of NE Kansas I hadn't explored before. I headed north on US-75 as I'd done many dozens of times before, but this time turned off East Ks Hwy 20 for the first time. Three or four miles later, just east of Horton, I found what I immediately recognized as an abandoned schoolhouse--probably a two room school--built in the early 1900's. It made my day. Next to abandoned theaters, abandoned schools are just about my favorite photographic subject (not counting the human body). Unfortunately, there was no entry point, though a glance through the window revealed the interior to be uninteresting--a chaotic jumble of non-school related junk, with hardly room to walk. The name of the school is emblazoned on the front of the portico, but was so weathered I could not decipher it. There was a date as well, but could only make out the "19--." It sat right next to a busy highway, and there was an occupied house sitting cattycorner less than 100 meters away, so I decided not to use it as a site for a nude shoot. There was an abandoned farmhouse to the left (west) of the school, so I I went over there to assuage that inclination. More on that later.

 

95% of the time when I opt for monochrome, I prefer pure tones of black, gray, and white, but for whatever reason, sepia seemed right for this subject.

This train was my sole reason for journeying to Manningtree this morning and luckily I chose to shoot it from the end of the platform rather than at Cattawade as the front half was completely empty as it comprised brand new flats on delivery from Wembley. What wasn't lucky was the timing as it coincided with the last 30 seconds of fog and a minute later it was crystal clear blue sky! At least the fog does a good job of hiding the lack of load! The Belmond Royal Scotsman liveried examples often appear at this time of the year on local intermodals as the luxury train has a winter recess.

The lack of colour doesn't make much difference here, though, as the fox is a silver fox. :)

I took this photo at a local wildlife park several weeks ago and, as usual, through a fence.

 

No Flickr, this isn't a pet, a cat or a dog ! For some reason I'm not able to delete the autotags anymore.

[13:15] Eamon Cale slowly climbs the steps to Yuri's door. His face is difficult to read, a careful lack of expression that almost masks the shadow of concern in his eyes. It deepens when he sees the door standing open. He enters, silent as a shadow himself, and closes the door behind him. The room beyond is empty, silent as a tomb, and it takes him a moment to find the door hidden to the right of the kitchen. He enters the room beyond without a sound, only his gentle, rasping voice. "Yuri?"

[13:18] Sayuri Ushida let out a faux, rasping breath, the sound being lost in the bible that she was clutching so dearly to her bosom. Eamon would recognize it as one of the bibles that sat in the pews..."I....I figured you would come, Padre...." She forced a small smile on her lips, her fangs peeking out of her mouth. "I'm sorry....." She had been saying those words over and over to herself for the past few days...whether they were meant for her or for God was yet to be determined. "Come sit with me?" Her eyes pleaded as she weakly motioned to the chair, that bible easily slipping from her grasp and tumbling onto the floor.

[13:21] Eamon Cale quietly crosses the room. His boots thump softly with his steps, that half-off gait that's his signature now bringing him to her side. Slowly, he takes a seat in the dark chair beside her bed, and folds his hands between his knees as he looks at her. "There is nothing to apologize for," he says, and reaches out to take her hand. His eyes are shadowed with more than concern now; it's a grim and gentle sorrow. "I couldn't let ye do this alone."

[13:25] Sayuri Ushida gently squeezes his hand with what little strength she had. "I never thought it would come to this, Eamon...I always thought....that I was stronger than the evil....Maybe...there really is no hope for those like me. I've killed, I've beaten, I've cursed others to this life that I am trapped in....It never ends, does it?" Her voice was childlike, the worry and fear of what was to come now evident. "All I wanted...all I ever wanted....was to be free. And to never be alone.....at least God had finally answered my prayers..." She brought his hand to her cheek and brushed against it, much like a feline would do. "I hope....my letter didn't disturb you too greatly..."

[13:31] Eamon Cale's fingers gently thread with hers. He strokes his knuckles over her cheek, then leans forward, clasping her hand between his broad ones. It is a death bed, of that he has no doubt. He has sat at the bedsides of the dying too often; there's a feel to the room, a hush of expectancy found nowhere else. "Disturb me?" He pauses. "No. Worried me, aye." He unfolds one hand and strokes her hair back from her brow, a touch tender as a father with a child. "Freedom, like all things worth having, lass... it comes with a price. This is not a life God intended for ye."

[13:36] Sayuri Ushida almost seemed to purr under the touch as more and more of her original self started to show. "Padre....do ya' realise 'ow long it's been...since I 'ave felt genuine warmth?" Crimson tears started to well up in her eyes, though they were blackened due to the drying blood within her. She never wanted that touch to leave, but she knew deep down it wouldn't be long until she was freed from her icy prison. "I was...readin' Oedipus Rex before I wrote that letter to ye'....made me wonder...maybe this -is- what God 'ad planned all along...maybe he wanted ta' free me from whatever the devil 'ad in store....Like Oedipus...I tried ta' avoid fate....but it came aroun' full circle an' bit me, no pun intended...." Her eyes begin to droop as she focuses her attention on the warmth coming from his hand. "Such a comforting touch....we've been 'ere before...wit' you by me bedside, comfortin' me an' chasin' away me fears. Yer a father ta' me, in more ways then one, Eamon..."

[13:42] Eamon Cale's expression gentles; his eyes are dark, and shining in the room's dim light. "I believe everything happens for a reason, aye. 'Tis all free will--I don't believe we are predestined to be one thing or the other--but every action we take, right or wrong, God weaves into His plan. Perhaps..." He covers her hand in both of his once more. "Perhaps ye were meant for me, too. To help me better understand. I'm more than... priest, to hybrids and Midian's poor in spirit." The words remind him of her Bible study, the brightness of the center, how hard she had tried to fight the nature she'd been given. "Even the so-called monsters," he says softly, "have a God-shaped hole inside them. Ye taught me that, Sayuri." He smiles quietly. "Mo."

[13:47] Sayuri Ushida felt a peaceful calm wash over her as she heard his words. Never had she dreamed that she'd be one to help better a priest. "God does 'ave a funny way o' workin', dun' he?" A geniune, angelic smile came to her lips as what was left of that false personality melted away. It was no longer Sayuri the vampire laying on that death bed...no, it was without a doubt, that impish feline with a knack for melting people's hearts and making their days just a little bit brighter. "It's almost time fer me ta' go, Eamon....I ain't never been to a funeral, so I ain't to sure what to do....an' if I see God, do I call him 'Sir?'" She managed a small, almost unheard laugh. That was the thing about Mo...even in dark times, she always had been able to make light of situations.

[13:57] Eamon Cale searches the face of the frail lass before him, and feels his throat grow tight. His hand is once more gentle on her brow. "'Come to me,'" he whispers, "'all ye who are weary and burdened, and I will give ye rest.'" His face creases in a brief, melancholy smile at the soft, fading sound of her laughter. They had lost that bright lass, and only found her again now, with death waiting close by. "When ye see God, love, all will be well, whatever ye might say or do. Ye can't want wrong things in heaven. Your heart is your own." With a light thumb, he traces the sign of the cross upon her brow. "Through the holy mysteries of our redemption, may almighty God release ye from all punishments in this life, and in the life to come."

[14:00] Sayuri Ushida felt the room growing darker around her, her eyes falling completely shut. She had so many things she had wanted to do, to say...to live. But she knew well that her life had been over the second she was turned. All that passed from her was a last wish, a selfless one at that. "The Lord be with ye, Eamon...." Tears of dark sanguine trickled down her cheeks as she fell silent, her grip on his hand slowly fading until those slender fingers slipped from his completely. She was gone now, into that topoured state, and with a soft smile on her lips. If he were to focus, he may just hear her laughter, rejoicing with the angels that she was finally free.

[14:08] Eamon Cale's vision blurs; his voice is hoarse. "And also with you, lass." He watches her in silence, and feels the gentle clasp of her hand relax. Softly, he kisses her fingers, then he places her hand upon her chest. From an inside coat pocket, he draws out a clean handkerchief, and cleans her face of blood, revealing a look of peace. "May he open to ye the gates of paradise," he says softly, "and welcome ye to everlasting joy." Rising, he signs the cross over her, then with infinite care, he lifts the sheet beneath her and covers her body. His hands are deft, swift and sure, and the temporary shroud hides her gentle from prying eyes. With that, he picks her up in his arms, a slender fragile weight, and turns to carry her 'home.'

[14:12] Sayuri Ushida felt a tug from the 'other side'...she wasn't dead, nor living....just...at peace. She could see Eamon with her body...'Padre....can you hear me?' She mentally prodded at him. If he was as in tune as she had hoped, he would 'see' her...her true self, that neko he had met those many months ago. 'I'm safe 'ere Padre...an' warm....it's so wonderfully warm....Promise me ya' won't cry, kay? Fathers ain't supposed to cry...me mum and brothers say thank ya' fer takin' me home....I dun' think I'm gonna come back fer a long while, kay? But I want ya' ta' keep me updated...an' if you an' Elise ever have a baby, you damn well better name it after me! Remember...I'm always jus' a thought away...." Her voice fades, leaving him with a sense of calm that she had made it to where she had always wanted to be.

[14:18] Eamon Cale carries her through the door, through the front and into the perpetual twilight of a Midian afternoon. It's a body in his arms--there's no mistaking it, even without the makeshift shroud--but he holds her as if she's a very young child and he's carrying her to bed. His steps are swift, but his stride slows once, bringing him nearly to a stop. Maybe it's imagination, maybe it's the lack of sleep he's suffered for the past few days, but he can almost trick himself into believing her caught the flick of a familiar tail, and a voice is knows very well. He lifts his chin, listening to the wind sighing through the distant trees, a wind soft with promise... then with a faint nod, he continues on his way, Mo cradled in his arms.

  

[yes, I am more then aware that I bent some vampie rules, but it was for the sake of creativity, so nyah xD]

1 2 3 5 7 ••• 79 80