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12-21-2014, 09:46 PM
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Ophelia the Forsaken
I'm a princess cut from marble, smoother than a storm
they used to shout my name, now they whisper it Tinek spied the white dragon, smiling with scaled lips and tucking his wings to his body for a showing roll. He snapped out of the spiral by bursting his silver wings open and gliding carefully to a halt, chirping in response to her pretty song. She was still a baby with much to learn, and just as Comadre had once taught him, he wanted to impart some knowledge upon the smaller one. Tinek opened his jaws and bellowed a spray of ice and static, the sound crackling like lightning. Then, he urged her to use her power with a poke of his nose. Ophelia, used to hearing the sounds of cracking ice and snapping static ignored the dragon. Many times, they had been alone in the forest, walking, and a bark of static preceded the death of a meal. Instead, she observed the boy, marveling at how he had grown and eyeing the thick bundle of amulets around his neck. She could easily peer into his mind and see what they were for, but she preferred to give him the honor of his story. "You have grown," she said affectionately, a genuine smile on her lips. Then, she gave him the stage to speak his piece, and she listened. He inquired about the murderer, and she frowned, shaking her head and sighing a cloud of white. Ophelia did not know what to make of this murderer, or even how to put the clues together - given that she had only found a few of what she assumed were more. "I wish that there was more that I could tell you," she said quietly, wondering exactly what he was looking for. "Thus far, I have seen the death of two of the grey, the band your father was one in with me and my sister. One of the dead, Phaedra, was a dear friend of mine, though it pains me to say that she had no longer felt the same way." Memories came flooding back of when the pegasus mare had yelled that her debt had been repaid. "I saw black hairs, sand, pieces of black feathers and then some small, white fluff feathers... if you could call them that," she replied. "Many would fit that description. Midas, for one, has black and white feathers as well as black hair, but Ampere, Gaucho and others I have seen and know not their names have those elements to their figure." Taking a pause in their discussion of the murders, she glanced back down at the amulets. "So many," she commented. "What for?" |
 Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done. Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning. |
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