The Puppet

He stands there
Two lumps of wood
He shapes them with amazing dexterity

What have they become?
Is that supposed to be me?
A shapeless blob

Is that an arm?
A leg? a head?
I think its beginning to take shape.

A little twig man
Perhaps a distant cousin
Features similar, but not quite the same

I look one last time
The wood has become me!
A minature Shorin

I stare at it
Still, calm
A statuette

It springs to life!
What is going on?
The puppeteer takes grasp of me

Oh crap.

-Shorin Quicksilver

Penned by my hand on the 11th of Sarapin, in the year 384 AF.