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06-16-2015, 06:56 PM
We build cathedrals to our pain
Establish monuments to attain Talbot was the first to pick up on the approach of another, despite his master's seemingly heightened senses, for he was under the influence of the Moon, of the curse, of madness. Although the hound felt helpless in the matter of Crowley's current state, he at least could protect him from whoever, or whatever was coming, or vice-versa. The flicker of a memory flashed within the hound's mind, of a time not so long ago when the brindle had inflicted harm upon his own daughter, an event he surely still had no memory of. Growing taunt and moving away from Crowley, placing him between the stallion and they whom approached, Talbot's hackles raised in both anticipation and warning, but from the brush and woodworks came something he was not expecting; a skull-faced child, joined by a dragon as dark as night, eyes aglow as though fire consumed them. The hound makes no move as the filly speaks, however, instead remaining where he stood, watching, waiting. Crowley had taken notice before they appeared completely, and once the child was in view, he stood silent, the only sound that permeated the woods that of the source-less whispers. There was fear hidden behind those yellowed eyes of his, but more than anything they were cold, calculating, summing up the being before him. "... You," he answered at last, and with lips pursed tightly, he gestured north to where most of the rest of Helovia lie. "Everyone. They are all out to get me." A scowl marred his face then and his ears twisted backwards. "But you should already know that, child. Who sent you?" "Talk talk talk" [For Crowley's curse, 'distorted reality: others will take his words/actions in the worst possible sense, he will see everyone as out to get him] Freedom from all of the scars and the sins
Lest we drown in the darkness within |
The Weaver's Workshop
HP: 45
