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03-31-2015, 11:19 PM
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Ophelia the Forsaken
Sweat clung to her sides in foam, reminiscent of the oceans where her childhood lay dead. Nostrils flared in rhythm with her relentless pace, gaze unwavering to the north. Home - she needed to get home. Traveling to the Dragon’S Throat to warn Gaucho of their impending actions was necessary but the risk was great. What were the chances of not making it back in time? Of being too tired and exhausted to fight? She did not think that Deimos or Archibald would take the lead without her presence, but she had deserted a war before - it would not be the first time she had failed her herd. The thought brought sharp pains to her chest, coupling with the knife’s blade prodding between her ribs. Her dancing gate was an obligatory shift now, silver armor weighing upon her back as the star from the Sun God danced around on her elegant forehead. Only when she could go to further, white hide drenched blue from the heat, did she stop to walk, hanging her head low. Day faded to night and night to day again, pressing ever onward. Stopping to eat and drink made her anxious, a knot curling in her gut as she ruminated on past failures and anger. Not only was this the perfect opportunity to prove herself, but her heart was filled with rage that only violence could cure. Ophelia sighed heavily, moonlight catching and scattering in the lost stones that shimmered in her bloody hair, and the light upon her brow glowed demurely, as if sensing the future darkness. The pale princess rested between the Falls and the Edge, tension curling between the two herds with a sense of romanticism and right. Finally, after mounting slights and traveling, the whispers were turning to shouts and plans were becoming action. Tinek, having taken to spending time in the trees with his kin, sensed Ophelia’s emotions, crying loudly through the night and spiraling to her back, resting carefully on her spine. He rubbed his scaled head across her neck in a sign of support as she picked up her pace again, a driven ghost heralding death in her wake. |
 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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