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03-26-2015, 01:36 PM
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Crash
Dry earth depresses below heavy plates wrapped in silver, heavy forelock cast out of his field of vision and draped carefully down the center of his massive dome. Lively eyes sweep over the dying forest, the near unbearable heat growing stronger yet as the sun completely breaks over the hills in the west; already the air was stagnant and miserable, and the great warrior sighed inwardly. He had been here too many times.. had never really, settled in, per say. To many interruptions and mishaps, as well as loss of interest in the somber little world. The draft thinks back to the last time he had crossed the boarders and had cast himself back onto the valley between the mountains: there had been a wraith - a child - that he had crossed paths with, it's after-life journey coming to a bloody end. He can still remember the sound of the creature's guts rolling around in an exposed rib cage, the limp wing being drug on the ground as it moved... tendons and joints visible beneath rotten (and completely missing) patches of flesh. His belly gurgles and pops uncomfortably at the memory, the stench somehow able to find it's way back into his nostrils (purely from his imagination). The monochromatic beast tightens his jaws and his flank quivers in response to the image. The stallion moves on, silver glinting off of his jet black crown - as well as the thick hair hanging from his neck, rump, and legs - as thin rays of light stretch and filter through the gaps of the forest. Icy eyes watch his quiet surroundings carefully, unsure if the landmass has been taken over by the undead, or brought back from near extinction. White ears rotate accordingly and the dim gray feather weaved into his mane trembles in the face of a hot breeze. Both flaccid pink nostrils quiver and short white whiskers twitch while the beast tests the air for any familiar (or unfamiliar, even) scents. He longs to see his Princess, to embrace her slender body and protect her for eternity.. but time takes it's toll, and two years ticked by before he could react. Wide teeth grind in his skull, the bones creaking and grinding as they rub together under an massive amount of pressure; could she have had more children? Is she healthy.. is she even living? A cold ball of flem rolled down the back of his throat, visions of her mangled body and cold, gelatinous blood plauging his thoughts for only seconds before he can force them out. Instead, he tried to think of the positives: the hot spring and beads of water rolling off of her pearly hide, the small giggle hidden behind a waterfall of hair. She has to be alive. "Basin brothers!" the Tinker shouted, his deep voice shattering the eerie silence that cloaked the thin forest. Silver hooves drug across the dusty earth as he continued to move with steps full of both grace and power. "Speaking"
Wow, I really wish I could write him as beautifully as he had been for a little while, but this I guess this will have to do for now. |
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