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04-07-2014, 01:16 AM
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As she begins swerving away from the range, she takes the time to enjoy the grandiose sight that is laid out before her, a buffet of severe beauty that glitters with infinite gems sparkling lemon-gold with light. Black and grey clusters of jagged rock dapple the unforgiving cliffs, thousands of hungry eyes peeking out from the alabaster taffeta that enrings them. Unease grips her, souring the taste in her mouth, distracting her from the snowstorm that rolls over her; a tiny fly against a behemoth. A swift, brutal flurry overtakes her in a matter of seconds and she panics, nearly blinded, fluttering helplessly as freckled steel-blue earth rushes up to greet her. Fear seizes her, squeezing her throat, the whites of her eyes flaring. Only one thought passes through her mind --"Shit."-- before it is seared into a purity of nothingness that only terror can manage. Atropos does not have Saphiron in her sights, however. Yet. The brown mare catches herself enough that her following landing cause minimal damage. After crashing to the ground in a violent spray of snow and azure feathers, she is motionless, emitting only one pathetic squeak. Eventually several of those feathers drift down, swaying back and forth in an arch, as she slowly she begins to unfurl herself, phoenix-like, wincing as she moves her tender wings in various ways, testing for damage. Good; they were sore from overworking, trying to save her stupid ass, but serviceable. Next she took stock of her body, particularly her legs- the back left's ankle burns when she puts weight on it, its circumference already beginning to swell. Pinning her ears back, she growls out a string of epithets, following it with muttering. "Dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb." Her glossy locks are now in complete disarray, frizzy and damp, peppered with bulbous flakes; puffing a stray strand of that windswept raspberry-sherbet hair from her eyes, she levels her gaze. Features contorted hideously in absolute contempt over her situation smooth out upon seeing her surroundings in shock. Like the great peaks, the seat of the basin, this place has an eerie quality within its magnificence. She is at once both terrified and awed, the sheer solace resonating deeply within her. That same sensation of discomfort that misguided her crawls its way back up with the acid in her throat. This must be the place Abishia spoke of. It is vaguely bowl shaped and, she gasps loudly, there in the sky: its namesake. "Gods and goddesses," she purrs reverently, standing there like a fool, gazing at the rainbow-firestorm dance, undulating in silent and feral abandon, playing out above her head. |
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[OOC: OH GOD I'M SCARED DON'T EAT ME PLEASE I HAD TO. Also auroras tend to end around April, so I am pretending they maybe last a few weeks longer. I hope that is okay. :3]
