On The Moon

Nin woke from his trance to find himself someplace new.

It was an odd place, a place of stillness and quiet. The sky was dark and cloudless. The ground was a pale grey, speckled with pot-marks and small, strange craters. He took a few cautious steps forward. A thin coat of dust puffed and died with every step.

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Warlord

Nin was dragged before the warlord. And as he looked around the war-room, he saw that the walls were adorned with the skulls of many creatures, keepsakes of the lord’s prior victories. And he wondered if his own head would soon be joining this collection.

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The Owl

Here is a story from when Nin was young, and still a prince among rabbits:

Nin was sitting under a great old tree, and the rain trickled down through the palms and wet his head and fell on his nose. The rainstorm had come out of nowhere. Nin was irritated. He was cold and miserable, and with nothing to distract him from his coldness and miserableness, his irritation only increased.

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