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The storms picked up wind, sending white and crimson mane flying around her face, and still she pressed onward. Her heartbeat relentlessly in her ears, hooves beating mercilessly on the snow. She pressed onward to the south, trying to search her memories for a experience like this. There were none. Something cried out in the din of nothingness, a strange cry echoing off of nothing and pulsing outward into the abyss. Ophelia paused, turning and scanning the horizon. Nothing. Then, she looked down. A small, dark creature was running her direction, and Tinek swooped down from the storm, talons gripping her armor to protect himself from the coming madness. He too looked down at the creature, and they assessed this together, their minds unified and sharing thoughts without awkwardness or hesitancy. “Yellow eyes. Predator.” “Golden rings, strange.” “Long body. Claws. Digger.” “A rose in its mouth.” Their thoughts were indistinguishable from one another, but Ophelia stepped forward, lowering her muzzle toward this interesting being with curiosity. The pale princess watched it sit, crying out her name again, and she scanned its teeth and the way it held the rose. She stepped forward carefully, cloven hooves lightly depressing the snow as her nostrils flared, catching its strange scent and the earthen lull of the rose. Little digits gripped the rose and shoved it her direction, speaking her name much more clearly. The thing spoke like Comadre did, long ago. The memories of the half-wolf and his scaled being were still fresh in her mind, and she frowned, lightly trying to take the rose in her lips. Was this what the creature wanted? Then, it turned to look into the sky, and she too looked upwards. Massive clouds of black and blood were tumbling in the sky, holes forming in the very fabric of reality. Fear was an emotion she had to manufacture, not natural in her strange mind which was free of instincts, but she would forever live in regret if she could not return to Torleik – if she was not strong enough to bear the coming disaster and save herself for the mystery of the future. Ophelia nodded when the creature spoke, gently trying to nudge it with her soft, mousy muzzle. “Come,” she said quietly, kneeling down onto one leg. “Climb up.” The armor she wore should have enough holds for the creature to latch onto as they ran. She would not be the fool to stand before such a storm and dare the world to strike her down, no. Ophelia would run until there was no breath in her lungs and no strength in her legs, and only then would she turn to fight. Tinek offered a hand to the creature to help him aboard, and Ophelia did not wait a single second longer than she had to. The pale princess took a single look behind her at fate bleeding, and she dug her cloven toes into the snow. Neck strained, she ran, legs snapping across the Steppes and sending a white spray billowing in her wake. [[OMG A BILLY BUMBLER ;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-; HNGHGHNGHGHN ]] |
 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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