He landed on the shore, the waves gently bringing in his ragged body and pushing it through the golden grains. He lay there unconcious, exotic birds with coloured plumes pecked and sat with arrogance on the little lord; he did not move. Water lapped at him intermittently and for hours Aleesa, body amalgamated to wet sand, did not wake.
The sun began to freefall, as if caught in a timelaspe, blue turned to orange and then violent red with reckless abandon. There was an urgency in the ether, time did not simply move it moved with purpose. The song of those that called the sky their home began to fade, in it's place a soft hum seemed to rise from the belly of the earth and burst forth as the sun hailed its final goodbye. The moon rose with bright splendour, taking it's place with elegance as it reached its zenith, Blanketing those that had left this plane for the night in it's soft glow.
Not so the ocean. It grew restless as the moon took it's place, as if some deep rage lay in it's heart, heretofore hidden. The insomniac of this little world came at the sand, bullying the little grains with increasing vigour as the boy lay their defenceless, at the mercy of this awoken tyrant.
