let no joyful voice be heard

the Rift

[PRIVATE] let no joyful voice be heard

Shadow Posts: 153

Deceased atk: 6.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4.5

Filly :: Hybrid :: 14.2 :: 8 HP: 63 | Buff: ENDURE

Chan

03-07-2014, 01:11 AM

Shadow
and who shall I say

is calling?

It hurt. She was burning, shivering and weak under a sky so black, so black, like the dark when closing the eyes or at night when the candle has been blown out by the wind. She was starving to death, hunger etching lines in skin and bone, lines that would never truly fade away.

She was alone.

Once this would have made her feel safe, free. She was a shadow in a forest, a black bird at midnight, an enigma as wild as she was restless. A shadow had no need for company, no desire to bind herself beyond the warm, light, gentle bonds of make belief and play, of wishful thinking and pretend. Once, the memory or sight of sun-kissed horses roving slowly across a desert plane, their shape shimmering and shifting in the still air would have been enough to heal the hole within her soul, to fill the void and heal scars she'd thought long since faded.

Now, as she roamed the snow-covered expanse in slow, painful stride the shadow, the sleuth, the blackbird wing-horse found her thoughts straying not to red sand baking in the heat or the hot embrace of a flesh-bound spirit, laughing and entrancing beneath glittering moonlight. She thought not about a tall giant smiling down at her through endless nights or a man with golden eyes baring his teeth in foolish, brave despair as he tried to protect her from death. They walked with her already, as much a part of her as the gloom beneath folded wings, as the lavender fire dancing in her eyes, they laughed and cried and spoke in the jingle of a golden chain where it rested around her neck. It felt heavy, weighed down by golden stones threaded with metal, precious junk of little value she couldn't remember having even picked up. At some point a brown horn had tangled itself hopelessly into glittering links; it stabbed into her shoulder for every step, drawing blood that trickled in a crimson, sluggish stream down the leg.

Where was she headed? It was dark everywhere, she couldn't see anything. A veil lay between her eyes and the rest of the world, coloring it in death and decay, a cloud of rot that ate away at skin and bones, molting feathers until she was unable to fly. Was the moon laughing at her where it stared from up high, round and full like a mother almost carried to term? The pale orb looked smug somehow, contented with the monochrome of the landscape. White and black, white and black, a splash of green and gray and then only more black, and white.

Something flitted by at the periphery of her vision and with a cry so shrill and broken and vicious that she shied away from the sound of it, the mare threw herself around. Sunken eyes stared dully around, chest heaving in desperate attempts to replace the precious air so recklessly expelled; she found herself faced with a small doe, wide-eyed and frightened. For a heartbeat none of them moved, but as a sob deep and heart-wrenching rasped through painful windpipes the deer leaped away.

Like a rickety ship creaking in agony as it settled against the quay she ground to a halt, coughing and hacking, gasping for breath as black spots danced before her eyes. Something salty and wet spluttered through the lips and landed in the snow, steaming hot and dark against the ice and snow. When she finally was able to breathe again the cheeks were already stained with tears, lines of oblivion drawn through layers of dirt and grime.

"Kari" she whispered achingly into the night, back hunching and eyes closing tightly in on the pain that clenched around her chest. How could such a small existence leave such a large void when it disappeared? How could a creature so strange, so foreign, so small and frail and weak come to warm her frigid heart, turning it into something red and pulsating and live? Because of him she was bleeding out on the inside, because of him she had charged into battle against a monster, because of him she had become lost and alone in a world so maddened and diseased that her very mind had become tainted by it. Because of him, she had managed to maintain some sliver of sanity, some semblance of self as her once strong body crumbled into dust, gradually fading away in the winter wind.

A careful breath, expanding and contracting skin pulled taught over bared ribs, let a cloud of white into the air. Not knowing where she was going or what to find the mare, so very small and frail in the mercy of the powers of this world, began to move again, a little slower than before, a little heavier in her steps. How was she to know that she moved steadily away from a deep crevice in the ground from which a bright orange glow emerged, where heat made the air shimmer and hope thrived in deep caverns beneath the earth? She was but a woman lost in wilderness, a mother unable to find her child.

It didn't matter where she went, if her son wasn't there to walk with her.

@[Carnesîr]

HP: 42
Healed

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