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Ophelia
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Blood, burns and heartache were what she carried now, body beaten. The only saving grace for the sickness and pain was the numbness that settled over her, shielding her from misery. Ophelia staggered into the grass, not caring where her hooves landed nor noticing what was before her until she was upon it. Voices, like knives in a wretched skull hit her with full force, and she gazed at a turtle deep under a beautiful tree. The words of the tree spoke in her mind, and she knew that she was unworthy. Wouldn't hurt to hear the words though, right? Gaze captured by the light, she limped to the scene, the right side of her body still bruised. In all ways, she was broken, her normally, flawless hide marred by blood and sand, sweat and tears. Ophelia approached, not looking at the other faces as they disappeared, blending into the soft background of the evening. No smile could grace her lips, not now. Instead, she bowed her head and closed her eyes, inhaling the piney scent and trying not to cry. She couldn't even say good evening, because it wasn't good at all. "Pretty tree," she whispered hoarsely, gaze captivated by the sparkling, gentle lights. Oh, how she longed to come and fade so beautifully, ethereal. Never had she felt more mortal, gritty and tainted. Even Tinek held his head in solace, the silver dragon coming to land upon her back and wait. He was carefully not to upset her damaged hairs, his weight becoming a comfort and a reminder that she was never truly alone. |
 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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