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12-24-2013, 02:15 PM
I had a previously worked up draft for this and it disappeared. -unhappy- -_- Oh, btw, Heather - your post was kinda hard to read with the colors. The text doesn't really stand out on my screen. And Eagle, maybe if you mess with the line spacing in yours and...I dunno, bold your speech text it might help? At the very least, perhaps making sure the paragraphs have double the amount of space between them would make it easier to read.
Credits: Image by Eagle
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Torleik
A lone man loved by none: How long can he live? As they walked on, Arah took the lead. This irked Torleik somewhat; she had conceded that position to him, for him to take Beowulf to the Basin. He supposed he'd done that, brought him to the entrance per se - still. The Impersonator already wasn't his favorite mare and this wasn't necessarily helping matters. The dual-horned stallion said nothing, however. Arah had been in the Basin longer and knew more; she was better to introduce it than Torleik would be. He understood this and let it go. Angry, unwelcoming wind whipped at their bodies, Irelyn highly displeased by this part of the journey every time. She was more affected, being tiny and full of feathers that were meant to catch the wind for flight. Torleik had taught her how to make it easier and showed her to climb up his mane and hold on, using his neck as a barrier for wind from one direction. So, with a dark, down-feathered little owl griffin nestled under his braided mane, the stallion pressed on. He remained tacit as Arah spoke to the newcomer about the wind, about the Basin. What could he say that she could not? The snowbeast thanked Arah solely for leading him to the Basin and Torleik snorted, the sound probably lost in other ambient noise. Not as if he had led most of the way, and Arah only the last few important steps. But it mattered not, he realized, as he witnessed Deimos slip from the shadows like a sickness that was spreading over flesh, the Reaper quietly approaching Beowulf. I would tell you to run but...you cannot, he thought to himself, then let his apathy return. Deimos would learn what he could get from the large newcomer and move away, a siphon of knowledge being stored for later use. The image of the Reaper's child came to mind and Torleik sighed softly, turning away. Evil males in the world had fathered children, surely, but something told him Deimos was not evil in the sense of those others. Corrupted and foolishly blinded but...whatever Machiavellian schemes he felt compelled to enact and complete, but not evil. Some good was left in a stallion whose child still called him father fondly. Choosing to turn back, he gave a respectful nod to his herd leader and stood silently to the side, observing. Deimos seemed to trust Arah and it made Torleik wonder. Frustrating how everyone in this place seemed to have multiple faces, duplicitous masks to put on depending on who was near. |
![[Image: 531c0b471919e]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/531c0b471919e)
No man is an island.
Pixel by: Tamme :D
Pixel by: Tamme :D
Please tag me in all posts! Thank you!
