| Outcast atk: 9 | def: 10.5 | dam: 2.5 |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2hh :: 8 HP: 61.5 | Buff: ENDURE |
| Gaz |
Her eyes reminded him of the tree lamps, staring out of the darkness of her macabre face like two perfect amber lanterns. Their light was warm in the way that they glowed softly like the embers of a fire, though her gaze instilled little else but a chill within him. Her jagged mouth, like the sharp switchbacks of a mountain path, seemed so physically impossible that he was almost convinced he was seeing things. A trick of the light, perhaps? Yes, that must be it. The haunting glow of her orange eyes mixed with the pale radiance of the lanterns was turning her face into a ghoulish mask. That, and his imagination received far too much entertainment from tampering with his eyesight.
The mare herself was like a neon warning sign. She was dark and plain-like, though certain minute details stood out to Murdock like the hidden pieces of a morbid puzzle. Put them together, and you would arrive at the conclusion that this creature was certainly not someone you want to be chatting with alone in a clearing in the dark. A shiver ran down his spine. Her silence was eerie, though not so much so as the emptiness of her gaze. She appeared uninterested in his formalities, and instead once more directed her attention to the folded wings at his sides.
"How many feathers?" He repeated softly, hardly a question. His brows were furrowed in a frown, as if he was unsure whether he had heard right. Was his imagination messing with his hearing now, too? Hesitantly drawing his attention away from her, he cast a glance back at his wings. They were large and white, slightly ruffled and damp, and folded neatly at his sides. There were large feathers, medium feathers, small feathers, and feathers so small that they would more likely be classified as down. The larger ones, those feathers in the range of one inch long to those stretching beyond six inches, were tipped with softly glowing green. Each and every feather on both of his wings were required for flight, or so he guessed.
However, evidently he could spare one or two here and there. After all, he had gifted two feathers from his left wing to Chernobyl, and had never noticed a difference in his flight. Those feathers were still missing. Since she had left him, he had torn their replacements out each time they began to grow back in. It was a way to remember her, no matter how insignificant and painful. If he could spare two small secondary feathers, then how many did he truly need to fly?
"That...is a good question," he responded with a grin, glancing back at her for a moment before returning his attention to his wings. He extended the left wing slowly, tilting it up at an angle and splaying out each feather so that they were all visible to her. Of course, he would not have done this if he had been aware of the motive behind her questioning. Despite her unsettling appearance, he did not hesitate to think before opening the span of his wing. He counted quickly, drawing his eyes across the pale expanse of feathers until his gaze travelled upward toward the feathers that were so small, they were almost indistinguishable. It was hopeless. "A great many, anyways. Though, I seem no worse for wear when I lose the odd one on occasion."
Folding the wing back against his side, he turned to face her as her next question left her jigsaw lips. He laughed as she crept closer, a nervous sort of sound as he swallowed thickly. Her shoulders were high and sloping as her head was held low, as though she was a predatory cat stalking her prey of a foolish bird. "I-I'm sure you could, yes. But, where would you get all the feathers you need?" Though deeply unsettled, Murdock was still oblivious to the danger he faced. He was determined to believe that this mare, this wanderer like himself, was innocent and pure of heart. Her appearance was all but comforting, though that should not determine her character. He tilted his ears back as she began to sing, her voice echoing off the darkness as though there were walls hidden within the black. Could he not find just one soul to offer safe and peaceful company?
"talk talk talk"
If I go crazy then will you still call me Superman?
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Image Credit
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