the Rift


SWP :: Blunt Little Instruments (Conclusion)

Maren the Crownless Posts: 264
Outcast atk: 5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.0 :: 6 HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Mr. Teatime :: Siberian Tiger :: Sing Yewrezz
#12


This is the end, the words of this voice struck as lighting; gone in a second. A wash of mixed emotions rolled over her in a careless, nonchalant caress. One that gave her the chills. Happiness, confusion, anger… But her thoughts were only this: That doesn’t mean anything anymore. For it didn’t, and that could not be how it was for her alone. Maren turned her gaze away from Beest to peek through her veil of mist that had hidden them away. It felt like ripping open a stainless white silken cloth, or like that time she had thrown the golden feather-chain she had gotten from her mother in the lake; she regretted it, but she had no choice. Before her eyes grew the scene of blood and despair. She swallowed it all, for at least it was overFor now… because there was that paranoia that had started to grow on her; that traumatic fume she had started to inhale ever since there had been a battle after a battle. Ever since it began, there had always been a next one.

She barely heard Beest’ words as she woke herself from her doom-staring, and let her eyes find his again. They were pale and empty; but she wouldn’t have it any other way right now: They were comforting. Pearls with blurred reflections that held no meaning or expectations.

Her breathing was a bit… chunky. In her normally so silent eyes a scratch of panic fell through. It took too long for her to answer, but finally she did. “Good —That you are alright.” At least they were. That was... well, good; enough? Why was her heart beating so disorderly then. Yet, his voice calmed her in a way that only good memories could. So she exhaled her stress and turned her back to what was happening there. She shouldn’t care (but she did).

What’s going on, he asked, because that was the question she had expected... and feared. Maren simply looked at him, attempting to search for a good sentence that must be hidden somewhere in her mind. And yet she couldn’t find it; something that wasn’t quite like her and he would know. “Let’s meet up later. Get to the shore. If you want, I’ll get you back to land.” Her words were hasty and coated with panic —maybe because she was used letting herself go in front of him. But right now his power of comfort was her weakness and she couldn't let him, or at least not  yet.

Voices in her head screamed, loaded guns she didn’t knew existed. Her mind had always been a nice place; a peaceful melody about a mysterious garden with a cherry oak tree hidden in the middle. It had turned to this battlefield now with no cherry oak in sight. Just take him and go, leave this island and this chaos that holds no good memories for you. And yet, she couldn’t. There were others. She wasn’t alone anymore. Not like she was in the past with Beest. “Wait for me there. I think there might be others who need my help getting home.”

And then she was gone; leaving her mists as long as she could. Maybe in the hopes of protecting him, as long as possible, for whatever danger that could still be lurking (or maybe because she didn’t want him to see what place Helovia had turned out to be).


She spotted a dark-bay pegasus mare she knew was from the throat, as she had seen her in their meeting, but her name had been lost to her. “Hey, are you hurt? Need a ride back?”

Puddles of tar still remained and she avoided them as she wandered to her other family members. She spotted Zero, the foal that she had met the time she found her boat, and noticed he was already unconscious. Moving him was perhaps not a good idea, if he was still even alive. “Tell me when he wakes up, I can help him get back to the Throat in my boat,” she told Isopia in a soft voice, the one watching over him (daughter of the Earth). But she couldn’t do more for him, not now; not for anyone.

(So from there on she moved to others, offering her help to guide them back to land, in case they could swim nor fly back home, for the Earth might tell them it was the end, but it wasn’t.)




Also for anyone who wants a logical way for their hurt characters to get back to shore <3

 

image credits


@Beest @Zeklè @Nephele
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Messages In This Thread
RE: SWP :: Blunt Little Instruments (Conclusion) - by Maren - 10-29-2015, 06:18 PM
RE: SWP :: Blunt Little Instruments (Conclusion) - by Morenth - 10-29-2015, 11:14 PM

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