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08-10-2012, 09:19 AM
She feels like she has been swimming forever, pushing forward with desperately pumping legs, reaching for the sun when she slips underwater, forcing her nose above the salty ocean that would be her tomb. Exile. An unimaginably cruel punishment given to her by her father, Chief of the Moonwatchers...though not so cruel as what he had done to Anuk, her beloved. She can still hear his panicked screams and pleas for mercy, his prayers to the Sun God to dull the pain of immolation. The scent of burning flesh still lingers in her nostrils, despite the tart saltwater all around her. But there is no time for grief now; nor will there ever be. Henna is wild, she is strong, and she was raised to be fierce and independent. Grief will slow her body and dull her spirit, and right now she needs both to be in top form. There - land. A long white strip of beach, beautiful as any beacon of light. "Thank you!" Henna gasps weakly to the sun god, whom she desperately hopes is listening; there is certainly no one else with her to hear. After a few more feverish minutes of swimming, Henna's hooves brush sand. Staggering, she pulls herself from the waves and collapses on wet sand, heaving and coughing. Water still licks at her, but she has no strength left to move. If some creature comes upon me wishing to attack, I will be utterly helpless "Please lend me some strength. Please." she implores the sun above her head. I have none of my own left. [Read Henna's history to understand all of this] |
