| Outcast atk: 9 | def: 10.5 | dam: 2.5 |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2hh :: 8 HP: 61.5 | Buff: ENDURE |
| Gaz |
He was afraid to look away from the flowers, worried they would be swallowed up into the darkness like the rest of the light had been. But when he finally forced himself to close his eyes, he opened them to find that it was still there. How long would the moon and stars stay for, and these strange blossoms? Could the citizens of Helovia really take their appearance as a sign of hope, or would they dissolve once more into oblivion, not to be seen for who knows how long? Regardless of what the future held, Murdock would not let his spirits fall farther than they already had. He had once flourished in darkness, but in the absence of light his soul had died along with the sun.
He pulled his gaze away from the flowers, scanning the quivering horizon for any sign of a sunrise, though his eyes were only met with familiar darkness. The fields seemed empty, utterly dead and devoid of life, despite the flowers at his hooves that pulsed with weak light. The grass was lined with silver frost and the mountains, vague, dark shapes in the distance, seemed more imposing than usual. However, the haunting stillness of the air was soon interrupted by the soft sound of hissing grass, as if a breeze was combing the meadow.
Murdock turned blindly toward the sound, searching the shadows as if expecting someone to be there, though he thought it impossible. The fields had been so still, eerily so, and so he half expected to see a ghost step into the light of the flowers. What approached, however, was not a ghost at all, but a vaguely familiar face attached to a body adorned with stars. He recognized her almost immediately, though at first he wasn't able to place where he had seen her. Her expression was calm and welcoming, and her greeting suggested they had indeed met before. Oh, of course, he thought, the spar.
"You're not going to hit me, are you?" He asked, raising a brow incredulously. He was teasing, of course, but one never knew what feelings their sparring partner might harbor after a fight. It seemed to have ended on good terms, however, so he was hardly concerned. A faint smile warmed his lips as she introduced herself, and he dipped his head in greeting. "A pleasure to finally put a name to the face, my dear. I am Murdock, Executioner of the Foothills." His morbid title never failed to amuse him, as if one got to know him well enough, they would come to realize that he could hardly be frightening if he tried.
He nodded slightly at her comment, following her violet gaze down to the earth where the radiant bed of flowers lay in the frosted grass. "Frighteningly beautiful. I wonder how they got here? I've never seen anything like them in my life." He turned back to Andromeda, fixing her with a mildly scrutinizing look though his expression remained level. He had not been out of the Foothills much since the darkness fell, nor had he heard much word of what the rest of Helovia was experiencing. Perhaps she could shed some light on this, as she was from the Throat and seemed to have done her fair share of travel.
"What's it like in the south?" He asked hesitantly, tipping his head to the side curiously as a foal might. "Not much different than up here, I imagine. I don't get out much, see. Too much business to attend to at home," he smiled, though it was half-hearted and thoughtless. He had only left the shelter of his herd-lands earlier in the winter, following the pull of his heart to the northern reaches of the Steppe, but the conditions had been unremarkable. Perhaps things were different in the Throat, though; at least they wouldn't have the snow to deal with.
"talk talk talk"
If I go crazy then will you still call me Superman?
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Image Credit
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