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12-27-2012, 09:13 PM
(This post was last modified: 12-27-2012, 09:13 PM by Prometheus.)
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our own little corner of the world Discovering that Psyche had been released was something I would have rather heard of in person- but these things do happen. When the two of us had arrived at the edge of the Dragon's throat, you had turned me back towards the basin quickly enough. Your keen senses, afforded to you by your species and the life flowing through you, led us back to the basin in no time. And here we are, at the end of a snake's trail and a long line of hoofprints. The warmth emanating from your skin is nothing to me, just as the cold is a sensation I cannot comprehend. As a child, I stand at the border of the Basin and hope to receive the audience of its empress. She owes me that much; I expect her to be one of her word. Mauja always was, it would be a disappointment to learn that his replacement had lost those values. Then again, Psyche does not seem to be quite so diplomatic as the Ice King. It will take time and a passionate fire to temper the steel of my trust in her. But, of course, her showing up will be the first test. And if she does not arrive, or if she arrives and turns me away, I will force myself to satisfy my needs in some other fashion. A herdland is not of particular attraction to me; the revenge I seek and the power behind a herd that can aid me in attaining it, however, is. You, on the other hand, might appreciate a more stable life. And I've been selfish enough for long enough, it has come the time to at last take your thoughts into consideration. And I will- as soon as I can hear them again. Until then I wait, watching the breeze as it blows by and feeling the faint brush of it against my dead, loose skin. The nerves are cut short in places, the wiring a little faulty, but I can still feel some of the wind as it rips through my body and fills its cracks. My wings, skeletal and bare, protrude from bony shoulders that are latticed with muscle. They look as if they belong, as if they have always been there- and they feel the same. It will be a task to play them off as a curse, as I have told Psyche that they are. My dead eyes look onward and your bright ones join them in their gaze. Together we stare into the distance, expectant of the black form that is meant to welcome us home. |
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please tag Prometheus in all replies!
magic & force is permitted at your own peril.
