LONG AGO, IN A LAND CALLED Sylvana, there was born to the royal family a son. The heir to the throne, a soul to continue the divine blood of his predecessors. The King and Queen named their son Prince Faolan, in which the hired staff quickly dubbed him the nick name "Lan". As a child, Lan grew to respect his tutors and work his hardest, practicing day after day on the dance lessons his parents would arrange for him. Everyday, he would dance for his parent's approval, letting his feet slide and leap, his arms swing and lunge, letting all his emotions tie together for a smashing climax.

**Both short, though unrelated.**

{1} Untitled (and possibly unfinished?)

the girl up on the balcony—
it's so dark, she's a shadow, she's unseen
high up in the rafters
she can hear the coughing, she can hear the laughter
she can see the magic and she can see the actors.

she's like a stormcloud up there, waiting
look out, it just might start raining.

{2} "Nightmares"

            The stiff, northern breeze pushed the strong scent of deer up into the nostrils of the crouching beast. His prey was so close; so unsuspecting; so perfect. The grass moved only slightly as the predator pushed his nose through. The wind was shifting; blowing from the northwest now. He lay frozen with anticipation as the head of his prey swung around and held, suspended in air, with wild eyes searching for the figure that lay hidden in the spring grass.

The wind howled over the mountain range. Far in the distance a pack of wolves howled at the moon. The silver shadows that played on the snow made the land eerie and mysterious. The dying embers of a campfire glowed from under an overhang.