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01-24-2014, 05:10 AM
still a credit to your ruse, what a beautiful excuse
to never open up your eyes and see the things you lose
to never open up your eyes and see the things you lose
He was fraying at the seams.
Helovia had become a churning pit of disaster: darkness roiled in his wake as he traversed the realm in his madness, blood too-hot in his icy veins, mind shaking within his skull. The shadow covered everything—land, sea, trees, skies, mountains... Exhaustion burned in his limbs, in his throat, in the futile pounding of his mortal heart, in the heaving of his sweaty sides. The air was stale and foul in his lungs, a racking cough plaguing him since he'd inhaled the black, vile cloud surrounding the half-dead girl. He could still vividly call up the image of her glistening lungs swelling behind bone-white ribs, and the steadfast pounding of her heart. The ruined, perfect machinery of a body.
He'd dropped from a canter somewhere, somewhen, lost within the never-receding darkness of Helovia. It clung to his legs like the mists of the Edge, but if he paused, stood still for too long, it grew firmer, almost solid, and he had to pull away.
He tried to tell himself he was mad, that he was just imagining it, but he didn't dare stop and find out. Each time he thought of it—each time he thought but what if it is real?—the terror bloomed in his chest again, sent his heart racing, mouth dry. And Irma... she'd flown and flown and flown, little wings beating valiantly, large heart pounding harshly, just as frightened as he. Until she'd simply fallen from the sky like the last star in his dream, a little tumbling bundle of feathers and tired, wide eyes. He'd fought the darkness for her. He'd torn her from its strangling grip and with beak and talon she'd climbed up his foreleg, leaving red blood to slowly trickle down into his fetlock. Then she slept, claws lodged deeply in his back.
Exhausted, bleeding, and shaken, Mauja somehow passed across the darkened isthmus, across the meadow, and into the east. Mountains loomed like distant shapes in the shadows on his left, the autumn-dead grass crumbling under his frosted hooves. Everything had gone all wrong since he'd gone to the Edge, and now, it was falling apart—Helovia was falling apart. Bleary-eyed and weak he stumbled along, with only one thought fixed clearly in his mind: to find Ophelia. He'd lost Loudmouth, despite swearing to protect her. He'd gone north, to find creatures and the herd nowhere to be found. He was running out of options. He was running out of things to do, places to go, souls to save, and oaths to break.
Starlight broke through the darkness as he heaved himself across the Foothills border, and left the grasping shadows behind. Starlight, blessed starlight, fell down from a cold fall sky, the air a blessing on his parched, raw throat: breathlessly he stumbled forward, leaving the nightmare behind, if but for a moment. He could've fallen to his knees and wept in joy of those distant pinpricks of light, of the sweet air, of the glitter of silver light along the edges of an early night frost.
"Ophelia," he whispered under his breath. Stumbled along. His pulse was slowing, his breath and steps too; with the keen terror somewhere behind him, the madness of his past couple of days caught up. Too much movement, too little sleep and too little to eat and drink. But he was so close now.. so close, but so mortal. "Ophelia!" he cried, begged of the stars. His hoof snagged on something, and his knees bent, and he fell heavily to his side in the cold grass on the mountain-slope. Irma, rattled awake for a moment, shifted upon him before settling in again: the last thing he saw before sleep claimed him was the stars. The stars.
[ -pokes him- Maybe you should let him sleep a couple of hours so he's more of a game <.< Anyway, just post away, depending on how fast it goes I might start another round without all of you having arrived. :3 @[Rhanna] @[Ktulu] @[Ampere] @[Elsa] @[Aurelia] ]
Helovia had become a churning pit of disaster: darkness roiled in his wake as he traversed the realm in his madness, blood too-hot in his icy veins, mind shaking within his skull. The shadow covered everything—land, sea, trees, skies, mountains... Exhaustion burned in his limbs, in his throat, in the futile pounding of his mortal heart, in the heaving of his sweaty sides. The air was stale and foul in his lungs, a racking cough plaguing him since he'd inhaled the black, vile cloud surrounding the half-dead girl. He could still vividly call up the image of her glistening lungs swelling behind bone-white ribs, and the steadfast pounding of her heart. The ruined, perfect machinery of a body.
He'd dropped from a canter somewhere, somewhen, lost within the never-receding darkness of Helovia. It clung to his legs like the mists of the Edge, but if he paused, stood still for too long, it grew firmer, almost solid, and he had to pull away.
He tried to tell himself he was mad, that he was just imagining it, but he didn't dare stop and find out. Each time he thought of it—each time he thought but what if it is real?—the terror bloomed in his chest again, sent his heart racing, mouth dry. And Irma... she'd flown and flown and flown, little wings beating valiantly, large heart pounding harshly, just as frightened as he. Until she'd simply fallen from the sky like the last star in his dream, a little tumbling bundle of feathers and tired, wide eyes. He'd fought the darkness for her. He'd torn her from its strangling grip and with beak and talon she'd climbed up his foreleg, leaving red blood to slowly trickle down into his fetlock. Then she slept, claws lodged deeply in his back.
Exhausted, bleeding, and shaken, Mauja somehow passed across the darkened isthmus, across the meadow, and into the east. Mountains loomed like distant shapes in the shadows on his left, the autumn-dead grass crumbling under his frosted hooves. Everything had gone all wrong since he'd gone to the Edge, and now, it was falling apart—Helovia was falling apart. Bleary-eyed and weak he stumbled along, with only one thought fixed clearly in his mind: to find Ophelia. He'd lost Loudmouth, despite swearing to protect her. He'd gone north, to find creatures and the herd nowhere to be found. He was running out of options. He was running out of things to do, places to go, souls to save, and oaths to break.
Starlight broke through the darkness as he heaved himself across the Foothills border, and left the grasping shadows behind. Starlight, blessed starlight, fell down from a cold fall sky, the air a blessing on his parched, raw throat: breathlessly he stumbled forward, leaving the nightmare behind, if but for a moment. He could've fallen to his knees and wept in joy of those distant pinpricks of light, of the sweet air, of the glitter of silver light along the edges of an early night frost.
"Ophelia," he whispered under his breath. Stumbled along. His pulse was slowing, his breath and steps too; with the keen terror somewhere behind him, the madness of his past couple of days caught up. Too much movement, too little sleep and too little to eat and drink. But he was so close now.. so close, but so mortal. "Ophelia!" he cried, begged of the stars. His hoof snagged on something, and his knees bent, and he fell heavily to his side in the cold grass on the mountain-slope. Irma, rattled awake for a moment, shifted upon him before settling in again: the last thing he saw before sleep claimed him was the stars. The stars.
[ -pokes him- Maybe you should let him sleep a couple of hours so he's more of a game <.< Anyway, just post away, depending on how fast it goes I might start another round without all of you having arrived. :3 @[Rhanna] @[Ktulu] @[Ampere] @[Elsa] @[Aurelia] ]
