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10-13-2015, 12:09 AM
Only the dead have seen the end of war.
Large, ivory hooves plodded down the bridge. The wood was alive, actively weaving before each of his steps as he followed the Earth God and his fellow Helovians to yet another new land. This god, too, spoke of welcome. It appeared there was no battle to be had.
But the old soldier knew better than to be as relaxed as he had been with the Sun God.
Nonetheless, he sighed, dark blue eyes roving over the faces. He did not feel social, for his gut spasmed and his head ached. At least he had grown (slightly) tolerant of the light sensitivity. So he hung back, away from the other equines. Thus, he did not see the damsel in distress that washed up along the shore. Had he seen her, the antelope stallion would have gladly lent aid.
However, he did not see her. So he surveyed the newcomers. The Rifters. Silently he wondered what lurked beneath the bridge this Earth God had built. Warily he cast a glance into the ocean below— he was not extremely fond of open water. Beaches were soothing. Beaches had sand. But elephants didn’t float very well. But they did sink.
So, rather abruptly, he decided to get off this bridge. For if a god erupted from the deep, he wanted his large bulk on solid land. Pushing his large form through the throng of equines, he crossed over the threshold to the Isles. Bringing him alongside stallion of two-toned grey and spots. And followed by smoke. “The way to the sun?” The ephemeral man strangely asked.
“Indeed, welcome to the brighter, slightly less dangerous realm,” he managed a lopsided grin to the confused stallion. Though, inopportunely, blood started to trickle from his ears again. He twitched them in irritation, for the perpetual leak was obnoxious.
Tembovu
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