.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
04-26-2015, 02:08 AM
|
Ophelia
And all things will end...
When was the last time she had been greeted with a laugh and a carefree smile? And why did that make her feel like dropping to her knees in tears? A life time of failures served as a mountain to climb, but every time she thought she reached the apex of her sins, another tower waited in sarcastic greeting. How did he escape her misery? How had she actually been able to do right by this shadowy, handsome child? Oh, and how he had grown into a handsome, strong man now… She was not brave enough to face her emotions, rattled as she was from the poor battle for the Falls and Torleik’s admittance. Tears welled up in her eyes, guilt at knowing she did not deserve his love any more than she deserved the Bloodskald’s. The silver armor on her body was an exoskeleton, a silver lie. With the burnished sides of the minimalist angles, she fooled them all into thinking she was a leader, a Lady, a warrior and a good woman. Maybe, on the outside. And like any gilded thing, what lay beneath was pale and gaunt, a whisper of white entrenched in blood. Maybe he was a fool and did not see it? Maybe she had not raised him well enough to see… What did he ever learn from her than to run away? Was a year or so of love truly enough to sediment her as an agent of light in his eyes? Ophelia prayed this was true, but she held no hope. One day, he too, would wake and realize that he was better off without – just like Roskuld. Osiris. Djinn. Tor. Her father. So let her relish this moment that she had. Ophelia tried to smile, the corners of her eyes wrinkling too much as she squinted in the pain of her own emotion. “I have no doubt we will learn from each other,” she murmured in return, watching his lithe and fit form glide backward, seemingly blending into the night. The boy had grown since she had last seen him, his height well beyond hers now. He was a handsome, ornate stallion who was as beautiful as he was strong, and the guilt she felt for failing him mixed with pride in a nauseating concoction. Her hooves acted on their own. Every nerve was frayed from the overwhelming extent of her inner turmoil and anxiety from having to be still during battle. Ophelia danced forward, testing, tempting. Cloven hooves gripped the dark emeralds of the grass beneath her hooves, relishing the cool, crisp breeze that caught in her sanguine tresses. If she had to warrant a rough guess, she was more practiced than he and perhaps more agile. Those two, feathered wings (once so soft) and his height would be her greatest hindrances from victory, and her two, strange colored eyes shifted over her opponent, changing to something dangerous. With each purposeful advance, she felt numbness pervade her system, offering a much relished and interesting relief from the dragon of stress. The cry of her soul for blood and war was louder than her doubts at this juncture, serving as a dam to ebb the torrent inside. Ophelia moved her hips slightly, dancing sideways toward him as she began the preliminary execution of her attack. The pale princess, hopefully near enough now, lashed out with a hind hoof, but that was only a distraction. Seconds later, she spun on her haunches and lunged forward, jaws wide open, gaping and hungry. Snaking her neck to the side, she aimed to catch her son on the shoulder, and her white teeth were prepared to give a solid, firm bite. Would he smell like she remembered now that he was this close? Like childhood innocence and clean winds? Or would he smell of stallion and musk, pheromones and strength? Ophelia inhaled deeply, taking concern with his wings and quickly ducking her head lest one massive, heavy appendage come flying her way. [[(1/3) (665 words in word) - Ophelia lashes out with a hind hoof to try to catch him off guard - She then spins on her haunches and lungs to try to bite his shoulder - Ducks to try to avoid getting hit in the head by a wing Don't mind my emo :| I'll have a teaching spar post for you after your first attack <3 ]] |
@[Mesec]
 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. |
Please tag me in every response!
