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06-11-2015, 05:47 PM
Blood in the water
In the water
stands a mender
in the water
rests towards sheol
in the water
bleeds the redder
in the water
bleeds the gold
ASHAMIN
BEAUTY IS PERCEPTION
BEAUTY IS PERCEPTION
The voice came like a call of hope--Ashamin could not have been happier, then, to hear the reply. Before it had only been a voice, some echo off the surface of the water, but now, now it was an answer. And whoever the young mare at the other end of it (for he could hear the feminine trill in her voice, the one marked by youth,) he was thankful for her presence. No one, he felt, could be a greater threat to him now than his own injury: the foolishness of his failure to move.
And then, the water stirred. Before him appeared a creature in monochrome, at first like himself. He lifted his head weakly, the gesture of movement assurance of his life that remained, the closest he could get to his typical greeting. How good it would have been to reach out and touch her, then, to prove he had the strength to feel another's presence. But he didn't.
Closer inspection revealed there was more color to the mare that met the eye. Her stomach was splashed in gold, her ankle seeming to bleed the metallic hue and filling the water with its shine. And the wings she bore were majestic even though they showed signs of needing more time to grow. It would be some time, Ashamin thought, before they could rival the majesty of Einarr's--if they ever even could.
And the arachnid on her head, and the kitsune at her feet--this was a strange little filly indeed. Ashamin wondered if she could help, or if perhaps his aid lay with this strange Camon she kept calling for, but he knew now that he couldn't hesitate to ask.
Her voice bore the same gentleness, her companion the same set of multiple tails as Lena. He remembered what the bay mare had called herself: a mender. Was it possible that the similarities continued?
The buck nudged the egg nervously and tenderly, as if to comfort the creature within it. "A spar... it was only meant to be a spar..." his voice trailed and he pressed his nose to the thin surface of the orb's shell. He murmured a kindness to it, and then lifted his faze to the younger filly who stood before him. "Are you a mender? Your kitsune, I have met another bonded to one who can heal," he said hesitantly. Or was it even healing? Was he wrong in thinking that?
Where was Lena now, and the rest of the herd? He was not alone, and still, with the unhatched orb at his side... he could not help but feel an isolation, even in company.
In the water, the red of his blood stretched out to mix with the unwashed purity of a mystical, liquid gold.
[[For @[Zahra]--Thank you Riven for getting through this with me, I know you're so busy <3.]]
Table by Jen, with help from Avis
See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
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