burned into your bones.

the Rift

[OPEN] burned into your bones.

Osiris Posts: 88

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Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17.3hh :: 13.

Comadre :: Plain Black Dragon :: Fire Breath Boom Boom!

10-11-2014, 03:54 PM (This post was last modified: 10-11-2014, 03:55 PM by Osiris.)

MONSTERS

w e r e s i g n o u r s e l v e s t o e x i s t e n c e i n t h e d a r k .

The dead waltzed into Helovia. A sickening, dreaded reawakening of a former life for Osiris, one he foolishly believed remained in the past. Much like all the events in his life, reality ushered in a swift, painful slap. Like the nightmare ghosts of Isilme, these creatures usurped the appearances of former friends, acquaintances. Corpses, walking, breathing, coveting the flesh and blood of their brethren. The very similarity of those bladed shadows in the dark made the wolf cringe. Death, it seemed, continued to pursue his heels, his movements, and no matter where he hid, the darkness followed.

A monster, trapped by his own body, followed by the shadows of evil. Just as the dead had come to reign in Isilme, they too shall wrench the thrones from the nobles of Helovia... or so he thought.

Soft paws tread lightly along the pitch black forest of Frostfall. The scent of decaying flesh no longer clung to the air like a suffocating blanket. Instead, as if in some dream of a former reality, the trees appeared normal. The scent of pine mixed in with the shedding trees and moonlight spoke of a forest, not of the ghouls which walked here just months ago. Golden eyes watch carefully, expecting the reflections of the moon to twist and bend into animated corpses. Sailing ahead on silent, ebony wings Comadre notes with some hesitation that Helovia appears to not be a land of the haunted. Trailing along at his heels, Kaya stoically agrees. Their words fuddled, mumbling, unintelligible in the brain of the hybrid as he tries to process this... optimistic outcome.

When the dead had arrived, the wolf had been among the first to flee. Having already danced with the devils of Isilme, he knew all too well how useless trying to bargain with the dead could be. Rather than risk life and limb, Osiris simply left this land, forsaking its residents. The thought of Ophelia's beautiful skull crushed and mauled by phantoms crossed his mind, but the jaded brother of wolves knew how foolish becoming a hero could be. Besides, Osiris... he was no hero. Leaving his heart behind in Helovia, leaving with the pack which had become his only family, the hybrid sought only survival. Traveling away from the cursed lands of Helovia, finding shelter outside her borders, and waiting for the whole place to collapse upon itself. Osiris had every intention to stand outside and watch the flames of disaster tear apart another home. Steel enveloping his resolve, he waited. Time marched onward, but the days began to wear at his soul.

You see, you can believe that your heart is infallible once abandoned, yet even a year later, the pulse beckons you home. A moth to light, the wolf yearned for the familiar pathways and faces of his home. His heart, worrying endlessly about the bodies left for slaughter, called to him from afar. Even now, stepping quietly and carefully in the spooky halls of the Deep Forest, he wondered. Had they survived? Were the dead simply playing a cruel joke? Were his hopes for naught?

I think they are gone, Comadre breaks the wolf's concentration, landing softly upon his withers. Sharp eyes loll over the forest, and lips part to reveal the sharpened teeth of a dog. "Everyone appears to be."

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