Their cluster, the entire discord slowly becomes a low, garbled thrum...the bleeding high of adrenaline wouldn't sustain extreme fatigue. Building in the corner of my vision, a flooded tunnel of darkness creeps in...Our woodland scene becomes skewed, a bastard child of reality and imagination. I'm laying beside the broken framework of a figurative shoreline; its grey, green waters murmur, birthing temptation. Those haunting vibrations become more fierce by the second as brackish, velveteen hands slip from the churning surface. Beckoning, boldly anticipating; offering my worn out body a place of temporary rest. To my rattled mind, the figurative pool seems mercifully dreamless...dark and warm. Though it promises no real comfort -because a realm of vague emptiness couldn't truly sooth my terror- it does suggest that there would be an absence of danger and pain when I'm submersed in that sickly looking tide.

Give in...the raspy waters whisper, seeming to gurgle sympathetically. All I'm required to do is offer my unwavering submission.

If you let me rest, I try to bargain, but my credit is spent, it was hardly worth speaking. The water sighs and those fingers inch closer, only for a little while.

There is an interpretation, an opposing voice echoing in that dark space, (not the imaginary kind) I faintly recognize it as the ornamental male from before. But this time, his melody doesn't blare offensively, rather -much like a pebble thrown to the waves- it upsets the surface of that murky pool in my mind. His baritone cord resonates, answering my anxiety with a glimmer of clarity...I look up, reality becomes sharper. Traces of color return, as does the rapid swell of alien voices. Resentful fatigue aims to sink her fangs ever deeper, while my ashen mistrust ebbs from those unseen wounds. Tormented emotions are fractionally dulled, as my crumbled subconscious quivers, responding to those familiar cords...restoring a jagged piece of awareness.

Till now, nobody has managed to breach the invisible barrier surrounding me; none could shatter my prison.

Lids forcefully pry further open. Not now...mini me whispers, I didn't have the energy to spare on questions. Instead, I cling upon naive hope. Beneath me, the ground vibrates, absorbing the shock of giants. Irises flick over to find my savior coming...towards me, circling those crowding bodies. The golden eagle...my throat cinches; he'd...somehow managed to push those defiled legs beneath him. As wounded as he was... Noah's impure scent intensifies; a hard mix of fear, blood, sweat and undiluted fury. I gag inwardly, choking on the horror of his endurance and pain. A shadow passes, the cover of his ivory, gold wing and heavy body become a shield; while also hindering easy access of onlookers. Irises narrow, confusion and fear strums upon my heartstrings. Would they fight?

I try to lift my head, but the fevered aches intensify around my spine...they gravitate upward and create a dull throb behind my ears. Lips seal weakly, attempting to contain that uncontrollable urge to cry out! Instead, a raspy emission, my lapse of pain emerges as a muffled whimper. Trails of crimson slowly make their way across my body; their paths look more deadly than the wound(s) themselves. Even now, some of the lacerations have begun to clot, others (the larger, deeper ones) still weep.

OC:

@Tiney - feel free to do whatever comes natural to your character! <3 PP permission granted.