the Rift


Prisoner of War

Mirage the DragonHeart Posts: 414
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9 | dam: 6
Mare :: Equine :: 15.3 :: Eighteen HP: 68.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Akaith :: Royal Golden Dragon :: Fire Breath Whit
#1

Aching. Throbbing. Waves of nausea roiled and toiled within the heavily drugged femme. The dark, sweat-drenched hide shuddered, tremors racking the body, like a leaf shivering in a wintry breeze. Eyes opened, but they could not see anything. Darkness.. where am I? The inevitable question echoed about her cranium, rebounding off the inner walls of her skull over, and over again. There was a deathly silence surrounding her, enveloping her. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, her eyesight slowly crept back to her, first offering blurry smudges, obscure shapes, before she instinctively squinted as a particularly bright reflection nearly blinded her.

A warm bundle rested by her side. It was then she realised that she was laying down, and that the bundle beside her was a dragon. Her dragon. Akaith, she communicated, reaching out with her mind like she had so many times before. There was a moment where she waited, expectantly, for the comforting caress of her dragon's beautiful mind. But then, it did not come. Akaith! she exclaimed again, and worried as the dragon did not rouse from her slumber.

A sharp snort rushed from the nostrils of the mare then, rippling the finely crafted nostrils, the expression travelling across the entire sculpted façade of the mare as concern etched itself into every crevice of her arabic featured crown. A groan escaped her, unwillingly created with the effort of her twisting, strained movement to reach her soft muzzle closer to her beloved bonded. "Akaith." She said again, her voice cracked and out of practice; it was then that she realised her throat also ached. Her breath was held again, as she awaited a reaction, and when the little queen uncurled her golden form and blinked a few times before focussing upon her, a tightness in her chest unwound, as relief swept over her.

The dragon purred softly in recognition of her bonded, before tilting her little crown curiously as she to realised the numbness of the bond between them. The little dragon seemed to cope better than her bonded, however, as she promptly rose and pushed herself nearer to Mirage's head, making small sounds of comfort and assurance.

It was then they reassessed their location. They were within a cave, and the feel of the chilly breeze upon their faces told them of the northern aspect of their location. The land before them looked vaguely familiar - they knew, at the very least, that they were still within Helovia. The mare gathered her strength, so that she may rise and view where it was they truly were. Akaith wandered away from her bonded, allowing the mare more space in which to rise. Coughing seemed to want to interfere with her efforts, the strained breathing taking its toll on her - just standing was difficult. What happened to us, Akaith? It was such a habit to ask for her bonded's opinion, she felt a tremendous sense of loss all over again at the lack of reply.

Slowly, but surely, the memories and dots began to join together. Her throat ached due to something she ingested - a poison? A sedative? Her sides ached from where she was roughly beaten and forced to travel northwards. Akaith had been dancing a fine line between consciousness and unconsciousness, all the while managing to cling to her bonded's mane and make the journey with her. Unicorns, Mirage recalled, vaguely recollecting the fact that her captors each held a horn upon their brows.

So this was her punishment for taking what they held so dear, for challenging and winning their home from their very horns. The frenzy of stolen herdmates recently had indeed set the mare on edge, her sense of failure as she was not able to protect them all had caused a large sense of guilt to settle upon her, adding to the guilt she already felt over forcing others to leave their homes so that she might live in comfort.

With a strained step she wandered to the lip of her cave, and directed her golden vision about. The air was thick with the stench of the horned fiends; she wondered whereabouts her guard would be.

[ For Xanthos first, then other Basin members are welcome to poke her if they like. ]

larfsalot.deviantart.com



Messages In This Thread
Prisoner of War - by Mirage - 12-05-2012, 10:33 PM
RE: Prisoner of War - by Xanthos - 12-06-2012, 09:19 AM
RE: Prisoner of War - by Mirage - 12-06-2012, 09:51 PM
RE: Prisoner of War - by Xanthos - 12-06-2012, 11:01 PM
RE: Prisoner of War - by Mirage - 12-06-2012, 11:42 PM
RE: Prisoner of War - by Xanthos - 12-07-2012, 09:58 AM
RE: Prisoner of War - by Ink - 12-07-2012, 06:19 PM
RE: Prisoner of War - by Mirage - 12-07-2012, 08:25 PM
RE: Prisoner of War - by Xanthos - 12-08-2012, 01:11 AM
RE: Prisoner of War - by Blu - 12-08-2012, 01:36 AM
RE: Prisoner of War - by d'Artagnan - 12-08-2012, 11:31 AM
RE: Prisoner of War - by Mirage - 12-25-2012, 05:23 AM

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