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Myrah's sides heaved with every struggling breath, a shallow cough issuing from somewhere deep within her chest as their pace began to slow. The rain pelted her like pins and needles, stabbing and slapping at her multi-hued bodice.
The rocky outcroppings drew near, then opened to a wide ring around a rather unsettled lake. She didn't have much time to look around however, for as soon as they had entered, a cave rose up before her tired eyes... at last, with a trail of words from Voodoo's maw, they were in a small cave and out of the frigid storm.
Sucking in a long drought of dry air, she tried desperately not to shake herself like a dog, to ignore the impulse... all the while her body quivered and shivered from the combination of cold and exhaustion.
"Guess there will be no welcoming party." her words finally came after another few seconds nearly panting to catch her breath. Nares blossomed as she blew out, only to rebud after each intake.
As each passing minute ticked by out of harms way, her adrenaline began to fade and the pain from the long travels and the rough fall became rather apparent. Lowering her head, she gazed upon the wound, pulled further open by her frantic gait, and snorted in slight annoyance at the sight alone. Yet not a word was spoken about it, even as the blood began to well up and drip down her leg. After all, Myrah had seen worse... experienced worse, and it would heal in due time.
Fatigue made her body sag, her knees scream to give out, yet she stood still, unbending with a force that was just her will alone. "Feel free to lay down, I'll just take a short nap and watch the storm." an offering?
"Myrah Speaks"
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[O] Northern Lights, Bittersweet Night
