CHERNOBYL

A full moon – rounded, swollen and watching. It's light spills like silver water over the trickling river she drinks from. She is alone in her travels, as per usual. She's been many places but everyone stays away- to her relief. It is rare that she wants company, and when it happens it's usually a specific sort of want. Like Murdock. She stops mid-sip, swallowing hard before jerking her head up and moving on. She's on a deer path that winds and curls under the Falls herdlands, she can hear the churning waters, can feel the humid fingers reaching out. She moves more southern, finding a new path that crosses rivers and flows over small aspen littered hills of the area between the Meadows and Threshold. She moves swiftly and silently passed this, an owl the only thing spying on her liquid movements beneath the gnarled branches of a few old oaks hanging over.

The silver light finds the thorn-horned mare as she melts into the open, her charcoal fur dancing with chrome ribbons of moonlight, eventually grabbing at each ripple across her dark skin. She tilts a black eye to the sphere of glow, she is so bright that Bull cannot look for very long, the shape burned into vision as she blinks and looks toward the ground. She shakes the temporary feeling from her eyes and picks up her worn cracked feet into a slow trot toward the mouth of the caves. She can feel the heat pulsating from the opening...it is a cool night but not cool enough to keep the caves from feeling as if they're boiling. It will be empty though, and so hopefully she can study in peace.

She finds the room she is looking for easily enough, only having to squeeze passed a few others – a few sweaty others. She does not get too hung up on being smeared with another's moistness... she wouldn't be able to walk on if she allowed her mind to ponder than fun little detail. So she comes upon a room of moss, mushrooms of all kinds and broad flat walls with carvings that come alive with the gleam the orange-red of magma. They are covered, but she can see them through the incandescence provided by some of the mushrooms as well as the actual glittering of bright lava against darkness. She cannot understand them, but begins to brush the debris aside with her nose, trying to uncover all of them. Shit.. They're utterly not understandable. She stares harder, backing up and coming closer, feeling them with her nose and squinting and widening her bright black eyes.

“I wonder.” Her voice rings quietly through the empty halls. Anyone about would easily hear her muttering to herself like a head-wound victim.




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[ So, a while ago I proposed that some Helovians discover and study a written language. There was a lot of positive feedback but I poofed and it got forgotten about, I believe (at least by me lol). At the time I only had one character and she really didn't fit the whole thing, but Bull here is perfect for it. So anyways. Join in if you'd like to play a part. EVERYONE IS WELCOME <3 !! ]

i've dug graves,
you'll never find . . .