gus`s serenade

love, fear, will, silence, sparks, magic in the eyes of

He stepped from the rickety dock and set for the highlands.
Humungous rain plopped down from a fractal-like net of cobalt clouds strung across the fierce, enigmatic sky, blending in casts of glowing white and small, ripping swells of black -which, enmeshed together, spreading, and flung apart - created a dismal gloriness; a rare pleasure to behold for proud Scots. To Gus however, it was merely a reflection of his own primal cords that strummed a savage serenade within, as purring whispers provoking a blue wolf, hitting sparks in his heart that only sprung from the clots of dolloping rain, and grew like a new forest hidden below a deep ocean - the ocean where he'd left the ruby rose in lament for lost love. His only chance, he figured, would be on the highland trails, above the clouds. Even as it was: day heaving into snarling night.