|
Murdock seemed rather prone to completely mental dreams lately. Night after night he would awake standing in a dense fog, stretching on and on no matter how far he walked, where an indefinite chill would cool him to the bones and he became overwhelmed by the strangest feelings; something that told him he was lost - but home, at the same time. Today however there was no fog, no wispy tendrils of pining mist; the light of dawn had chased that all away. The silence stretched on endlessly, not a sound to be heard save for a haunted, humming moan that seemed to increase as great black clouds swirled vacantly in the distant skies. A storm was on its way, and it would not be long before thunder shook the earth.
He felt the ground beneath his feet, cool and soft as if he were standing on clouds. The warmth of spring had begun to melt the snow upon the pale face of the steppe, leaving a slippery and uneven surface underfoot. Here and there, shallow divots from the hooves of those who had passed before him scarred the perfect landscape, creating the subtlest change in the monotonous steppe that stretched out for miles around him. Only the immense, dark shape of the sea to his left provided contrast against the stark white of the plains, and he fixed his gaze upon it with dull interest.
Though sleep had found him the previous night, he found himself tired and detached as if still walking through a dream. Orinthia was supposed to meet him here for a spar, and he was to teach her the art of fighting. He was looking forwards to their little training session, though he doubted his weary state would do much to impress her. Nonetheless, he eagerly awaited her arrival so they could begin. This spar would be a particular challenge for him, as he would attempt to remain with all four feet planted firmly on the ground so as to allow her a fair fight. He expected he would have trouble fighting against the reflex to spread his wings, but it would keep him on his toes.
With a grim smile, he turned his back to the dim applause of the sea to face the plain white expanse of the steppe. The sky above rumbled an ominous warning of the spring storm that was soon to fall upon the snowy plain, but he payed it no attention. A simple storm would not put him off, and a bit of bad weather would not deter him. Absently scraping at the softening snow, Murdock busied himself with a simple, distracting task as he waited for the black mare to arrive.
(OOC: 800 word maximum for posts, no magic or companions.
Setting - On the Frostbreath Steppe by the sea in the early afternoon. It's fairly warm out and the snow underfoot is beginning to melt, creating difficult footing. A spring storm is on its way, but it will have little effect on the outcome of the fight.
3 attack posts with 1 closing defence. Orinthia will attack first. Judged.)
"Speak"
|
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
⇒
Stark Raving Mad [Orinthia]
