the Rift


little white moon flower | knox

Knox Posts: 262
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 7.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17hh :: 7 Years [Tallsun] HP: 67.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Jen
#6

image by deadair @ flickr.com</style>

round up all the pieces, but they just don't fit the same.</style>



Little colt feels weak as he consistently expresses emotion for the first time in his short life. The blood that has spattered around him in small puddles and smattered patterns fills his senses with the coppery taste of death, and upon recognition, he pulls himself out of it. Cassandra tells him to do the same just as he begins to rise, and he becomes aware of the fact not only that she had reached out to him, but that she is now gone.

He misses her touch. In the dark he feels alone, in his life he seems burdened. Manhattan is his only escape- he sees the young pup as his salvation, his last link to sanity and what separates him from his family. He watches her now with a tender gaze that he cannot force to meet Cassandra's. There is some sort of pain there that he does not fully understand, but knows he has indirectly caused. He feels guilt for the first time and with it a sense of self loathing.

Still, he remembers her touch. He pulls himself forward, absentmindedly lowering his nose down to he chest to swipe away some of his own blood before advancing towards her. He does not want a berth of space, he wants to be beside her and he does not know why. He wants to be close to those his father loved, wants to understand them as the sentinel once did, to feel what he felt for them. He wants to be his father, to leave behind the ingrained commands of his mother, to forget the voice telling him to come and drink the great Sentinel's blood. He realizes suddenly that he wants everything in his life to change, and that this may be his first and only chance to do just that.

"Where will you go?" He asks, pushing aside the pup who now jumps frantically at his legs and begs for attention. He feels a word strange on the tongue and odd in the mind begin to form- a strange word he would never have expected to experience. "Sister..." there it is, uttered like a song whispered on the wind, a prayer in the night. "I have to leave this place, to change the path that I've been born on. You knew our father, perhaps... perhaps you know me as well."


knox</style>
& manhattan</style>



Messages In This Thread
little white moon flower | knox - by Cassandra - 07-23-2012, 10:17 AM
RE: little white moon flower | knox - by Knox - 07-24-2012, 02:46 AM
RE: little white moon flower | knox - by Cassandra - 07-25-2012, 12:28 PM
RE: little white moon flower | knox - by Knox - 07-25-2012, 11:26 PM
RE: little white moon flower | knox - by Cassandra - 08-07-2012, 10:03 AM
RE: little white moon flower | knox - by Knox - 08-15-2012, 01:14 AM

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