darkness ever growing { Irrydae/Anyone }

[OPEN] darkness ever growing { Irrydae/Anyone }

Roskuld the Sparklight Posts: 424

World's Edge General atk: 7.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6

Mare :: Tribrid :: 15.3 :: 6 HP: 82 | Buff: ENDURE

Zchiraxicon :: Royal Rougarou :: Electric Smithers

#12

07-09-2013, 12:19 PM (This post was last modified: 07-09-2013, 12:20 PM by Roskuld.)

[I just got off absent a couple of days ago, thank you for your patience!]

~.~.~.~

From my position—my face lodged as it was against Ma’s stomach and teat—I wasn’t really able to see the faces and the expressions and the posture of the horses around; all I had to judge with was the tones they spoke with, and boy howdy were there some tones to here. Some sneering ones, apologetic ones, my Ma’s own solemn, crystalline lilt thrown in the mix to add a little chill to it. All of them speaking words I didn’t care to follow, big ones and small ones I could probably understand if I had a mind to, but I didn’t, so. I was hungry and that was my focus, and even if the tension was so thick I could feel it swirling around me, around my stubby legs and stump tail and through the gap in my horn. Even if there was some heavy stuff, all I wanted was milk and I was getting it so there.

That guy snorted at my Ma though, I heard that. And got immediately pissed, and I snorted too, mirroring him, breathing against my Ma’s nip and side, sorry. But I stomped a little and threw all 2 inches of my tail into the air, because how dare you, sir? Do you know who you was talkin to? This is MA, Chief of the Foothills, with all sorts of ass kickers waiting on her beck and call, including me, including me. Because you don’t treat Ma like that, you don’t treat anyone I love like that, so help me. Who’d he think he was? I didn’t turn away from Ma or stop drinkin’, cuz she had taught me about picking fights with grown folks—as in, I don’t do it, so don’t do it. I couldn’t correct this sarcastic son of a bitch and Ma didn’t seem to be in any danger other than a tongue lashing, even if she did sound tired-- so I didn’t.

But then there was a zip-snap! in the air and I smelled something gross, and another dead crow fell from the sky suddenly, a broken mass of feathers and junk, so that I spooked a little and stepped back, away from Ma, my horn thrown high and a disturbed little whinny escaping me. I’m no punk, but damn, I’ve never seen dead crows fall so indiscriminately like that before, like rain drops from a cloud of Hades. Death meant something bad and there was a lot of it here, a lot of it coming from unexpected places. I didn’t like it, not one bit.

I shook my mane a little though, getting over my jumpy fear so that all I had left was normal fear. I went back to Ma’s side, went back to drinkin because I was still hungry, but it was mostly a nervous tick to get my mind away from these strangers. Because it was dangerous here, my Ma was in danger and so was Miss Day Day and I wasn’t leaving them so easily, and there was too much death and I knew it had something to do with these broken, sad, twisted, evil busy bodies and I wanted them gone—

--I wanted them gone—

--I wanted them gone.

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