Assigned words: photography, mild, homosapien.
Preface
Within the aspects of the universe, there lies a subtle thought of prescience. If it, already lies the answers, through the technological advancements and epochs of destiny, questions are asked, but no answers are given. Such was the life of the simple man, Floato, Floato had an aspiration, and aspiration to whom he believed he could never accomplish, and how could he? In the face of complexities and unfortunalities, why was he relevant? This, was the reason for his quest, he had always been told that he was going to do great things, but the doubt insued as it always does. He saw the opportunity and took it.
Girdalf was a man of many multifaceted and seeming random acts of caprice, he followed a life to which none could follow, his appearance was an imaginative piece of chaos, with an orange beard and orange robes that gave the impression of a man living amongst the sand, he was known throughout as Girdalf the Orange. And his friends has long since adhered to the urge to leave, and thus he was left to himself to condole to his own mission. Thus, he sought an apprentice to fulfill his motivation and heed guidance.
Chapter 1
Girdalf sped past several establishments in his excitement to sway his dear companion's son and chase a goal unknown to everyone else, as his cart slowed to a stop nearing his destination, he hardly hesitated to step right in and make himself at home, and as such, he was soon greeted with a surprised man who's appearance roughly imitated that of a dwarf, hardly a homosapien. "Dear Dog! You gave me a fright" he exclaimed in his gruff, voice with sporadic undertones, "Why would you barge in here at this hour!?". Girdalf immediately arose to greet this man, "How are you, old friend? I've been waiting for this opportunity". The man, still stunned, proceeded with reestablished recognition, " Is that you? After all this time, I've about thought you would've gotten yourself killed with all the shenanigans I've been hearing you've been doing". Presently, Girdalf resigned to the impression that introductions had been all diminished for now, and replied with a quickness in his voice, "What shenanigans? What've you been hearing about me?"
"Well, we've heard them everywhere, don't try and hide it"
"What, come out!"
"You've been busying yourself with an occupation in photography"
"Is that what you've been hearing? Really? And how would that make you think that I've been killed?"
"That was just a hook to make the readers more interested"
"Oh, right" he replied with a tinge of resentfulness
"But don't tell them that"
"Stop going off script, telling everyone that I'm an photographer, I'm supposed to be an adventurer"
"OK, well get back to the book already"
"Cut that out" he said to the writer.
Girdalf now started the phrase with a mild tinge of agitation, "I've been in the forbidden woods slaying beasts of all manner of breed and occupation, and I don't like photography"
The man similarly started his discourse with anger in his voice, but he wasn't addressing the plot this time. "You can't say 'occupation', that infers that the monsters have jobs! And why would you say that you don't like photography, that part was cut out!" he almost shouted.
"Why didn't we rehearse this beforehand? It was your idea to delve right into the story, we didn't give them any background knowledge to build off of. Why did they assign you with the role of the scriptwriter, you can't even say your own lines!"
"Maybe so, but you're fired!"
"No! I quit!", "Why would I even think of joining a theater company that gets nothing done!?" he added under his breath.
The end
