Hyp prose is fundamentally concerned with emotional action and interior narrative: the movements of the spirit rather than physical movements.
It utilises the most magical power of words, their ability to admit us into the dense inner world of an individual human being, a power which underpins every human interaction especially our ability to love.
The Psalms are a fine example of such words, with their intensely detailed descriptions of the interior state of the supplicant. To take Psalm 6 as a random example:
Have mercy on me, Lord, for I am faint Heal me, Lord, for my bones are in agony My soul is in deep anguish, I am worn out from my groaning Night-long I flood my bed with weeping And I drench my couch with my tears.
Modern authors are coy about such descriptions. Attempt them and your work will be called maudlin, or overwritten, and you may even be accused of the greatest heresy in modern literature: the crime of actually having something to say.
The sample text [From the Chronicles of Lupa 1:4] shows the reaction of a brave but beaten man to the comfort that has eluded him for all of his life; a victim of terrible abuse being breathed back to life by the Song of the She-Wolves.
P. Julian
3 March 2019
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So it flowed. Poor kind men who had been bullied and broken felt lines of tension and shame leave their bodies, and they stood up straight again and felt their vigour and self-belief return. That morning careers were abandoned for much more benevolent careers, and hearts were enabled to love again, and spouses were reconciled into the love that had always resided in their hearts, without the fear that held that love from being poured out.
In that morning there was one man who wept with a special intensity, the bravest and most upright of the victims of Max Fairlight. As great tears of relief fell from his eyes this beaten man felt his hardship lift from him, and he felt his old strength and bravery come back into his heart, his old hunger and thirst for doing what is right, whatever the cost.
As his soul revived and decided this man also felt the whispers of a greater love drift into his heart, although he did not yet have the ears to hear it. A love song breathed into him, lifting him up. You the most favoured amongst the sons of men. His heart was exalted upon this secret psalm, he was raised up and set upon a strong foundation. The hard hills and the mountains you have climbed, we have sung to you, Beloved.
Upon these lines this man felt his right hand strengthen, and his left extend itself outwards towards mercy. He felt sure again that justice could be done, and he felt suddenly that he might do justice also, and live a life that was different from the crawling, terrified life that his torture had condemned him to. Without hearing the words but having their whole healing, without knowing the words that were recited to him at all.