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06-11-2013, 11:21 PM
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But when his heart was lifted up, and his mind hardened in pride...
Quilyan
...he was deposed from his kingly throne, and they took his glory from him.
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| Every time she stumbles, he winces anew, though his own wounds seem to be faring much better in the cold. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that with the cold comes numbness, but he doesn't dwell on that too much. He allows her to lead the way, as she is the one who is determined for him to see a healer, but he is by her side, only a hair's length away. He lost her, once, but he is not going to do so a second time. He trudges wearily onward, refusing to admit that he follows her lead because he can no longer remember where they are going. The fever that plagued him while he searched for her had only grown worse during the time that they had been reunited, and more often than not he finds himself in a state of muddled bewilderment. Zarina spends as much time riding on Resplendence's withers as she does her bonded's now. She cannot bear to feel the heat emanating from his flesh, and she dislikes disturbing him by scurrying up and down his nape. With the mare, she finds that she can perch upon the poll and survey the area, from time to time leaping to a tree trunk and scampering to the top to look ahead. It is quite easy for her to catch up and plop onto Resplendence's back once more, though after the first time she did this, she learned that a chirp of warning is much easier than a fear-inspired tumble into the snow. When they arrive in the Edge, Zarina moves back to her bonded, hoping that a gentle cuddle in his mane will help to reassure him. She can feel his nervousness, though he went to great lengths to hide it from Resplendence. This is not their land, after all; they do not belong here. What if they are chased away? What if he is wounded further? How is he supposed to protect her now, from whatever they may find? She cannot answer, and instead sends reassuring feelings through the bond. Surely the inhabitants of this land will help him; the wound is clearly infected, and he is clearly not in his right mind. What would they stand to gain from sending him away? He wants to tell her to stop, to wait at the border, but he cannot seem to find the energy. He does not notice the others immediately, but looks around him with a mild sort of surprise when Resplendence begins to speak. He has halted beside her, and folds his uninjured wing over her back in a sort of protective barrier, hoping to reassure her. Words, however, fail him, though it is clear by the glassy look in his eyes that he is ill. Exhaustion has begun to work its way into his system, and he wants nothing more than to lie down. Finally, he manages a single raspy word: "Please." |
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Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.
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Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.
Want to plot with Quilyan? Visit his plot page here!
