| Aurora Basin Phantom atk: 7.5 | def: 10 | dam: 2.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16 hh :: 8 yrs HP: 60.0 | Buff: NOVICE |
| Glo |
She had escaped his notice in the midst of all the commotion, the white figure that still remained in the shadows, watching in barely contained silence as the exchange took place between stallion and feline. Roland's head whipped away from the creature upon his back at the sharp echo of Imogen's sudden outcry, wide gaze landing upon her quaking form. The anger that had barely been kept in check abated somewhat, giving way to guilt. No doubt she placed much of the blame on him, and she was not wrong to think so. He had asked for Lena's help, she had followed him into a strange abyss, and only he had returned. There was no one else to point fingers at besides himself, and no way to communicate that he would do anything to get her back, even if that meant taking her place in the mirror-prison.
He startled when the dark furred creature appeared at Imogen's side, her weightless form having left his back while he took no notice. She inked devious lines towards the kitsune, curling and coiling like a living shadow, a duplicitous serpent, and reached out to poke at the small fox as if she had every right to do so. Roland took a step forwards, anger rising in his throat once again. Before he could reach the pair of them the feline withdrew and turned to smoke, empty space where her tangible form had once been, and her voice resonated once again from behind his head. He turned a glowering eye upon her form.
The gift she spoke of, he supposed, was magic. Roland had always expected he would know immediately when he had earned it, that he would feel something change within him, some altering of his psyche, some sense that something within him vibrated with a newfound power. There was no rush of enlightenment, no sudden heightened awareness to assure him of its presence. Instead, there was nothing; nothing out of the ordinary, nothing out of place, and yet she insisted that she had given him something, a reward, a favour, for all his troubles.
Panic closed its hand around his throat, his lungs tightening as her words sunk in and he cast a look back to the mirror, as solid and still, as fortified as it had been when he'd last glanced its way. Lena would not be released until he ventured south- a few days' journey at the least- and found sand? Such a worthless, common commodity in exchange for something so valuable... And meanwhile she would be left without a hope, wondering or perhaps even believing that he had abandoned her, while he was sent on some fool's errand halfway across the realm.
If there was to be no other way out of it, then he would waste no time in departing. Roland glanced back to Imogen, his gaze full of concern, and distress. "I'm sorry," he murmured, regardless of whether she would understand his words or not. With one last glance towards the mirror, he turned away and to the mouth of the cave, paying no mind to the dark shape upon his back. With impatience guiding his steps, he quitted the darkness of the cave and emerged into the sunlight, breaking out into a canter as he made for the mountain pass, mentions of his newly bestowed gift still lingering in his mind.
@[Lena]
Push your luck if it makes you a promise
that turns con men honest.
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Image Credit
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