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08-28-2014, 04:32 PM
so make me your deadman, with only poison in my veins,
stuck in your wonderland,
stagnated by the passivity, I'm gonna make you b l e e d like me;
The night was cold and clear, the kind of chilly autumn eve where the stars seemed to burn in the sky and the first frost caused both grass and trees alike to glitter like crushed glass. It got colder the higher up you went; perhaps there was little surprise in finding the most biting of breezes to drift among the trees of the floating island. Most of the creatures - of which the majority surely had to be both strange and mysterious to inhabit such an otherworldly place - had tuckered in with the exception of the nocturnal ones. Their passage through the bramble and brush was a quiet one however, stealthy paws and silky wings too accustomed to trails and pathways to disturb any who might rest among the tents of the strange city.
Having learned from previous experience that it was best for him to stay away from the cloth structures, a certain black-skinned heathen had settled down in a clearing for the night. Injured and sick he had spent most of the day in stillness, keeping close to both grazing and water despite holding little desire for either; the simple knowledge that it was there for him to partake in if he so needed made him feel better. Truly, the usually so impressive stag didn't look half as intimidating as he usually did. The heavy mask had been cast aside and lay by the hooves of the beast, retrieved from a sandy beach before limping away from the battlefield but never returned back onto the chiseled face; raw blisters marred the handsome features, sore and sensitive and too painful to be subjected to the constant chafing of cold bone. It was enough of a struggle to stand as it was; each of the legs were badly burned, both belly and tail scalded enough that he suspected it would leave scars unless he found a healer soon.
But who would aid a no name outcast who couldn't curb his tongue or swallow pride long enough to ask for help?
And so Morir left the matter of life and death to fate and simply tried to endure, finally managing to get some rest after hour upon hour of agony.
@[Thranduil] Thought we could write out the stealth? ;D since it's an amusing situation and all, and I want to play ~
chaoticmelodies & larfsalot @deviantart | subtlepatterns.com
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