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10-06-2012, 05:37 AM
 Well, at least they were leaving her alone now, pulling back. Peaches-and-cream lay unconscious on the ground, and Alan fought down the urge to rush over to him and stomp on his head. Too many enemies around her. Too many bitches. Snarling, she took off a few steps forth, spun around. A gray pony stood back here, looking very tired and worn, a white dragon with him. Through the swirling mist she could see Mauja, standing at the edge looking worn - defeated. No. It couldn't be. They couldn't have lost... Sounds proclaimed that some were still fighting, but Mauja's deep voice rang out through the World's Edge. So familiar, the way it thundered out across this fog-blanketed forest, sending shivers through the ground and tugging at the souls of all who lived there. How many times had it called them to a gathering, or simply rolled out as comfort in the dark nights? Now, though, its spirit was broken, the edges raw and ragged. We are lost. Alan swept past Lace like a night wind, spinning into the blackness of the Edge forest. Some of their own had fallen, but such was war. Not everyone made it out alive.  |
