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There was a deep horrendous roar that racketed in her ears. The beast curled it's tongue. It's voice creating a deep fear that settled like a bomb in her stomach. It's voice wasn't smooth to her. It was cracked and firey. She could feel it gripping her bode as it flung her across the snow. Her voice. Her voice had this effect. Angora couldn't stand it. She was the devil and Angora was caught by her. Forced to be idle in this cold wasteland. She ran frantically, scrabbling away from the monster in pure desperation. Frost flowered in her tracks, her breath clouding in the cold air of this place. She knew no names of the horses hear. This ebonite jackal was nameless along with the stallion who had originally caught her. It was now very late in the night and there was no doubt in her mind Pysche would have severe trouble seeing her, especially at a full out gallop. A smile curled on her lips as she saw it. Where the imaginary border was. Faster was all she thought of. Faster. Faster. Faster.
She felt completely not there. She felt as though her body was escaping, but her soul was home in the wilds... away from here. These god damn horses held her hostage, why? I have to get the fuck away.. Her thought circled. Her body had sweat beading on it. Despite the cold she could sweat? What? Everything was opposite here. Racism equals bad, horns equal racism, unicorns mean horns, but only know had she saw all the connections. Crowley, Totem, Tolio, Arah? They were all basin at one point, and whether they were still her or not was unknown. She had messed with all of them, which, yes, was wrong, but still. She liked horns. They were oddities and unique. Cool! Angora enjoyed getting things she couldn't have. The things that were so out of reach she just.. wanted. "No where, Bitch. Mind you own business. You aren't worth my time anymore." She mocked every inch of the jackal's voice. Still, it was barely a a voice there. Her throat dry from the cold air.
Freedom.
She felt completely not there. She felt as though her body was escaping, but her soul was home in the wilds... away from here. These god damn horses held her hostage, why? I have to get the fuck away.. Her thought circled. Her body had sweat beading on it. Despite the cold she could sweat? What? Everything was opposite here. Racism equals bad, horns equal racism, unicorns mean horns, but only know had she saw all the connections. Crowley, Totem, Tolio, Arah? They were all basin at one point, and whether they were still her or not was unknown. She had messed with all of them, which, yes, was wrong, but still. She liked horns. They were oddities and unique. Cool! Angora enjoyed getting things she couldn't have. The things that were so out of reach she just.. wanted. "No where, Bitch. Mind you own business. You aren't worth my time anymore." She mocked every inch of the jackal's voice. Still, it was barely a a voice there. Her throat dry from the cold air.
Freedom.
