the Rift


deliverance [acceptance?]

Argetlam Posts: 51
Up For Adoption
Stallion :: Equine :: 17.3 :: 7
Adoptable
#1


The metal crafter was sorely tempted to wallow in his misery until his trembling heart broke and he melted into a puddle of tears that dripped sullenly over the world, an expanding gray cloud. Maybe, if everyone felt his sorrow, they would stop fighting. Everywhere. No more war. It was a thought Argetlam indulged himself in, for much too long he nursed it, before realizing it was unlikely any would care if he melted into tears and how would he exactly melt into tears anyways?

He ached everywhere, he burned everywhere, and he thought he might, at least, crumble into a thousand pieces as he made his agonizingly slow way from Foothills to World's Edge, feeling as if his skin and muscle was rotting away over his bone. Every ten minutes or so, the stallion so desecrated by the battle would stop, chest trembling, spine tingling, eyes half-closing and keening softly to himself in the back of his throat, before he slogged on once more, groaning with the exertion of thick, heavy limbs and a broken heart, a heart savaged by the fine white lady who crowned herself in the Foothills' home, her black sister, a heart torn by their followers. Argetlam was devastated, the small, idle herd had been shredded by the horses there. In fact, he could hardly believe it.

Yet he sought out another home, knowing the moment Ophelia said it that he could not join that herd. He could not serve war or destruction. The metal bender, despite his shaking legs and pains, came hobbling to the herd nearest, praying for shelter and peace once more, somewhere that would tend to his cuts and wounds and care for him, where in return he could continue his crafting. It hurt to leave the massive amounts of metal behind in the mountains, but he had what felt like no choice. He needed to leave.

It was the morning one week after he departed the Foothills that he arrived on the boundaries, the birds singing their sweet songs. So Argetlam waited, leaning heavily against the trees, knowing someone would come in the pale, yellow-washed colors of dawn.

"TALK TALK TALK"



Messages In This Thread
deliverance [acceptance?] - by Argetlam - 03-19-2013, 05:24 PM
RE: deliverance [acceptance?] - by Crven - 03-19-2013, 05:56 PM
RE: deliverance [acceptance?] - by Aaron - 03-19-2013, 08:13 PM

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