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09-16-2012, 01:06 AM
(This post was last modified: 09-16-2012, 01:16 AM by Prometheus.)
For the day I have taken the form of a full grown dutch warmblood that I faintly recognize as myself. The bruises you have received from my punishment earlier have forced you into a disappointing limp, and each bump of the chains against your ribs had led you to whimper ever so slightly. I've grown tired of your whining, and as such the chains melt off of you, burning fur away and sizzling as they hit the cold, Orangemoon earth. I walk with a firm and steady stride towards the Threshold where I once met Rishima and Mirage, the two cimmerian mares that now lead the charge against the World's Edge. I am not the sentimental type, but I find it curious now and then to visit the place I have been in my life of undeath, to recall what I was then, to understand how little I have changed. After all, the dead do little more than lie in their graves, than melt away into the earth and sea- for me to change would be a violation of the process of death itself. In and of myself I am an abomination, there is no need to further the condition. Perhaps this is why I walk in my potential form on this crisp Orangemoon morning, when all seems still save for the falling of dead leaves from the trees. I am almost soundless in my walk, and you match my quiet for fear of what may happen if you slip and make a sound. Still you watch me like a hawk, taken in by the majesty of my appearance, ever hoping for me to turn and show affection. I cannot even look at you as you stalk behind me- I know that to face you would be to admit defeat to the foe that is love. And so we walk together in utter silence, neither of us exchanging a look, neither of us saying a word. I tower above you and my sinewy muscles bulge with each movement and release with each exhalation. It is strange to be alive, I think. It is strange to look upon the world with shining eyes and see it from a different height, from the entirely different perspective of a mortal. I am weak and susceptible even while I am strong and dangerous- the contradiction sparks my curiosity. But I do not have much time to dwell on my own ways before I spot company. Instantly I urge you forward and around the back of the mare so as not to scare her. She is small and unsuspecting, I shouldn't want you to try and make a meal out of her, no matter how appetizing she seems to the both of us. I make my way closer to her and eventually emerge from the shadow of the threshold forest. "Are you alone? Do you seek shelter?" I ask her, my voice clear and confident, my mannerisms not at all reflecting that of my true self. Why not play a little game today? |
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please tag Prometheus in all replies!
magic & force is permitted at your own peril.
