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01-22-2016, 05:16 AM
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Gull
never say die He was waiting for death, and death came to him. Through a haze of pain, he saw her arrive, heard the urgent staccato of hooves drumming on the sand. She was not quite what he’d imagined she’d be—the blue was a little gaudy for such a morbid occasion—but at least the horn was right. They’d come for so many, and now it was his turn. He did not put up a fight as she approached, only watched her with dull eyes and a resigned sort of hatred. There was no surprise, nor struggle: she had been hunting him from the day he had been born, and she had come to collect him at last. He had hoped for longer, wished he wouldn’t be slain in the sand like a dog, but who was he to dictate fate? Lady Luck had never been prone to considering his feelings, and who would she be to start now? It did not take her long to reach him. “Oh you poor thing,” she cooed, voice saccharine enough to leave the taste of overripe fruit in his mouth, “What happened to you?” Yet he said nothing as she baited him, only turned his gaze away. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of stripping both life and dignity from him today. Part of him wished that she would just get on with it. He knew what came next. Anticipating the thrust of the dagger, his hide shivered slightly, but still he made no move to look at her. Perhaps discouraged by his lack of response, she seemed to grow tired of her game rather quickly. He felt her step back, heard her inhale, gathering her breath for the act that she was about to commit, and he too breathed, bidding all of the goodbyes that a final exhale would allow him. And then she split the silence with a scream, and the word she uttered was enough to make the world go dark. Of course, death would never let him off that easy. The shock of hearing his enemy cry for help had been enough to send him drifting into unconsciousness for a spell, but it wasn’t quite enough to kill him, even in his weakened state. When he came to for the second time, another shadow hovered above him, speaking in a faint voice—he only caught the words ‘Badger’ and ‘Throat’ before he twitched in alarm at the all-too-familiar name, sending a spasm of pain into his shoulder. He groaned aloud and did his best to shift his weight away from the injured side. Though he was too overwhelmed to answer the stranger’s question, it was clear from the way he favored his shoulder that he was unable to rise. “Throat,” he rasped finally with great effort, eyes rolling in pain, “Haven’t…you…done…enough?” Before he had a chance to say more, yet another pair of legs halted before his prone body. A cool shadow fell over his face, and his gaze flickered upward to find a snowy pair of wings and their jovial owner, who greeted Death by name and Throat-thug with a gentlemanly head-bob. Gull’s eyes widened in distress. What was this pegasus doing? Clearly, the world had gone mad today. Civilities exchanged with the pair, the winged stallion turned to him, rumbling the name ‘Miykael’ by way of introduction. Drifting high on the waves of pain radiating from his re-agitated shoulder, Gull floated between the newcomer’s deep voice and the blackness that threatened to spread from where it lurked at the edges of his vision. Both brought pretty promises of relief, and he lingered in the space between until he only heard silence. Vaguely, he realized that the voice had stopped talking, but all twelve hooves were still there. He stirred in faint agitation. “What’s…with the…three’ve you…anyway?” he breathed, closing his eyes again. “Can’t…a guy…die…in peace?” "talk talk talk" |
@Tiamat @Badger @Miykael
Please do not tag Gull except for in opening posts or spars!
