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08-08-2014, 12:32 AM
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Ophelia the Forsaken
Ophelia stiffened at the whimper the solid thing emitted, and as it approached, she lifted her neck warily, nostrils wide and flared with hesitation. She could not shake the feeling that this woman-thing was some creature of hell sent to drag her down, down, down into eternal darkness. Still, she stood, firmly rooted to the ground as she briefly glanced at the golden mare, Illynx, and the black and white mare who had introduced them. Tinek, equally as startled by feeding on her emotions, jumped onto Phi's back and watched with his predatory gaze. The pale mare felt a tinge of compassion as the see-through creature asked her not to look at her in "that way", but she was still unconvinced that all of this was actually real. How could this mare be real? How could any of her soft expressions and gently lilted words actually exist? No longer was her expression horrified though, as the questions that raced through her head made her even more curious. Still, after being nearly killed on more than one occasion, she was reasonably wary. Death followed her like a plague, leading back to the bloody markings on her body. They marked her lineage, a people bathed in violence and raised in war. The numbness that iced her heart after her mother's death was unshakable now, and as much as she wanted to comfort this crystal mare, she could not. No amount of want could break the permafrost around her shattered heart. Her eyes lifted, if you could make them out from the sharply angled, quartz lids. Ophelia felt as if cold water was doused over the already frozen wasteland of her soul, and she frowned, ears laying back against her skull. Who was she talking about? The God of the Sun? The God of Time? Was this his way of taunting her? Sending nothing but a beating heart to say that she belonged to him? Mauja? The thought did not stir compassion, not after knowing what he was accused of doing. Not after he had left. "Depends," she said quietly, wondering exactly what this creature meant by laying with whoever this male was. Ophelia had never denied being a jealous woman. "Who is he?" she asked, feeling the familiar firefly of curiosity circling the zapping light. A lifeless face that you'll soon forget
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 Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done. Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning. |
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