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12-14-2013, 04:55 AM
it is a sound like thunder that stirs you from your restless slumber, that lifts your weary head and tired eyes, the smell of fear and adrenaline that raises you from the moonlit floor and onto limbs that ache in protest. your body shifts within the shadows, barely a shadow itself, while your heart pounds against your ribcage, filling your head with an uncomfortable swell as you struggle through your instinct to run. and you, little lamb with the faint-heart of a mouse, if only you knew: there is no room for bravery, no room for boldness when you had never learned the meaning of them, when your head is filled with waking dreams, waking dreams which pull you towards the sound, timid and meek. you can vaguely remember the terror that had hung over your neck like a noose when you had woken up and discovered yourself alone for the very first time; the way that you knew nothing else but to wait, holding tightly to the hope of your sanctuary returning. it is that same hope that brought you back here in the first place, down from the snowy arctic that had hidden you away for far too long. in truth, you had no idea how many minutes, days, weeks passed since you had last seen her; heard the croon of her voice like river over stone, smelled the mix of her skin of cedar and rain. you had have no idea, either, just how long it has been since the boy made of clay swept you up and disappeared all the same; just how long that you have been alone since that very first day. it is a sound like the crushing of bone against a hard place and the sudden silence that follows thereafter that sends a shiver as subtle as an earthquake trembling along your spine, ears pricking in the direction of the nothingness where there was something just moments ago. more hesitant than before, you continue to move forwards, slowly and deliberately. you cannot shake the growing apprehension within the shadow of your heart of what you will find, if anything at all. 'Hail! inhaling sharply, your body jerks to the side, eyes widening as something solid pummels into your ribcage, causing you to yelp and pull hastily away, pirouetting on ballerina toes before shooting a scathing glare to the darkened silhouette of the trunk of a tree. 'Stupid thing.' you mutter, for a moment forgetting the voice as unnerving as a hurricane against the deafening silence. 'What ails ye?' blinking slowly, it is easier than you thought it would be to edge towards the creature, the moonlight giving the two away all too quickly. for the smallest fraction of a second you pause mid-stride, eyes flickering from one to the next, a knot of anxiety balling up within your stomach as you examine the soaked, mahogany sinew of a boy running from ghosts. the second man, however, the coil-spring of tension that he is, exudes a light that you cannot place, and instinctively you edge just a little closer to him, nothing more than a shadow. you do not speak, only linger; too timid to do anything but assess the two passively. |
■ oh god. feel free to shoot me for this ;_; she's just hanging out near midas, in case it was unclear.
