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04-16-2016, 10:02 AM
The world was blank.
Mute.
Dark gray and shapeless, formless, directionless, the distant outline of trees blurred into the uniform drab fog, even their closest kin hung behind a veil. Soft gray obscured their clarity even when he stood but a few feet away. At times like these he sometimes imagined he could see the water droplets suspended in the air, that he could see their small shapes, pick them out against their siblings, and the world would unravel like a crystal lattice and all would make sense...
But he couldn't. Of course he couldn't. He could just feel them sticking to his whiskers, his eyelashes, little droplets forming on the tips of his pale coat. His breath smoking white in the saturated air.
There was a certain kind of silence to foggy days (and nights)—the water veil swallowed sound, and if one strayed too far from the herd, things were simply.. silent, as if one was all alone.
Mauja didn't mind. He had always been a ghost anyway; being a pale specter in the fog suited him just fine. It was a bitter thought, a bitter sentiment, and it reeked of all the things left unsaid, undone, between him and a certain other member of the herd—explanations left to rot upon his tongue and filter down to choke him in his lungs.
He could pass within yards of someone and not know.
They could pass within yards of him and not know.
He turned his head, away, and bent his body to follow it, heading somewhere else, something his senses told him led to the ocean. No breeze rippled through the Edge as he moved, no sounds of waves breaking or gulls crying came to his ears; even the sound of his own hooves was muffled, distant. The only true indicator of him reaching his destination was that of the ghostly impressions of trees around him lessening, leaving him stranded in a grayed-out world where everything seemed a wall. Standing there, somewhere near the Edge, he actually felt a vague twinge of fear; for all that he knew, he was trapped in this fog, locked in between four, uniform walls which offered no distinction between heaven and earth.
But there was something—some sixth ghost-sense tingling, and as he carefully drew closer to the Edge, he realized that he was not alone. The faint cries of gulls could be heard, and the sigh of the calm seas, but below him the grayed-out ground fell away into more of the shapeless gray. Slowly, he tilted his head to peer at the one who stood near him. Normally she glittered, pearly and icy white, but now, she was just as dreary as he was.
Saying nothing, Mauja turned his head back to stare out into the blank nothingness ahead of him, thinking it was a rather fitting mirror of his soul.
[ Sorry for the wait.. @Erthë! <3 Lost my sanity and for once cba to proof read, enjoy any eventual grammar/spelling/word choice mistakes. ]
Mute.
Dark gray and shapeless, formless, directionless, the distant outline of trees blurred into the uniform drab fog, even their closest kin hung behind a veil. Soft gray obscured their clarity even when he stood but a few feet away. At times like these he sometimes imagined he could see the water droplets suspended in the air, that he could see their small shapes, pick them out against their siblings, and the world would unravel like a crystal lattice and all would make sense...
But he couldn't. Of course he couldn't. He could just feel them sticking to his whiskers, his eyelashes, little droplets forming on the tips of his pale coat. His breath smoking white in the saturated air.
There was a certain kind of silence to foggy days (and nights)—the water veil swallowed sound, and if one strayed too far from the herd, things were simply.. silent, as if one was all alone.
Mauja didn't mind. He had always been a ghost anyway; being a pale specter in the fog suited him just fine. It was a bitter thought, a bitter sentiment, and it reeked of all the things left unsaid, undone, between him and a certain other member of the herd—explanations left to rot upon his tongue and filter down to choke him in his lungs.
He could pass within yards of someone and not know.
They could pass within yards of him and not know.
He turned his head, away, and bent his body to follow it, heading somewhere else, something his senses told him led to the ocean. No breeze rippled through the Edge as he moved, no sounds of waves breaking or gulls crying came to his ears; even the sound of his own hooves was muffled, distant. The only true indicator of him reaching his destination was that of the ghostly impressions of trees around him lessening, leaving him stranded in a grayed-out world where everything seemed a wall. Standing there, somewhere near the Edge, he actually felt a vague twinge of fear; for all that he knew, he was trapped in this fog, locked in between four, uniform walls which offered no distinction between heaven and earth.
But there was something—some sixth ghost-sense tingling, and as he carefully drew closer to the Edge, he realized that he was not alone. The faint cries of gulls could be heard, and the sigh of the calm seas, but below him the grayed-out ground fell away into more of the shapeless gray. Slowly, he tilted his head to peer at the one who stood near him. Normally she glittered, pearly and icy white, but now, she was just as dreary as he was.
Saying nothing, Mauja turned his head back to stare out into the blank nothingness ahead of him, thinking it was a rather fitting mirror of his soul.
[ Sorry for the wait.. @Erthë! <3 Lost my sanity and for once cba to proof read, enjoy any eventual grammar/spelling/word choice mistakes. ]
lord, the demands you're making-
help the monster on two feet
walk him down the hall, repeat
and when he's strong enough to stand alone
you'll notice what big teeth . . .
help the monster on two feet
walk him down the hall, repeat
and when he's strong enough to stand alone
you'll notice what big teeth . . .
