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| | i will not go into that cold darkness ( ENG ) |  |
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Crazedxmia
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Number of posts : 14
Status : Absent
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| | Onderwerp: i will not go into that cold darkness ( ENG ) do 30 aug 2012 - 23:52 | |
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OOC : starting over, cause i was away and i think you deserve a better post then the last one.
Her eyes brimmed with tears that will not fall; her heart aches to badly to do so. She had watched in horror her love be murdered, the memory still stings like a fresh cut. Runik, her thoughts linger on his chiselled face, soft and ebony black. He had done the worst, violating an angel and was taken down by its brothers, they had spared her unfortunately. Her heart was good and rich with passion, even though she had throw herself in front of her love to protect him from the angels wrath. She had done everything in her power to do so, and yet she failed to save him, he was gone, her heart felt empty. She was already longing for his touch, his voice and his protection. No one would have approached her if he was around, being a demon and once king of death, had its advantages. She waits longer on the scene unfolding, the battle all over again, replaying like a tape. She missed him already, and walks aimlessly without purpose. The angel had told her to run, run and never return to the damned fields. She had refused, staying beside runik, brushing her nose against him, hoping he would rise again.
She remembered the icy look in runik’s glazed eyes, those red eyes no longer held its fiery shimmer, only but a tainted glass of emptiness. Her heart had bashed itself against her chest, wanting to free itself of its misery cage, to stop the aching pain. Her mourning was cut short; the painful hit of a sharp hoof broke her dullness in a snap. She eyed the angel with fear; he landed another hit, this time creating a cut on her shoulder. Then his teeth came, gripping her soft skin into it, crushing down and causing her to squeal in pain. She launched herself to break his grip on her, she ran away with him chasing behind. She finally comes to reality, the exhaustion high and her alertness zero. She is tired and cold, bleeding and still mourning her loss. Runik was gone, and she still alive, something was unfair in this trade but she had no control over it. Even through all this stress, the worst of it was, she was in heat. She knows she’s a weak prey right now; it was like a siren, a beacon for those in need of a quick release. She could easily be overpowered by a stallion, and she would not fight back, to exhausted to do so.
Her eyes, a beautiful sterling tone, stare out, dull and empty of reaction. She ponders on her surroundings; she feels alone and deserted, along with the feeling of being lost. She ran as fast and long as her legs could ever carry her, but in a random direction, she ended up here. She remembers nothing of the past 2 days, how did she end up here? Her mind works to figure the missing puzzle pieces, while her ears swivel to any sounds that seem misplaced.
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| | | | Phantastico
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Number of posts : 663
Status : Active
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| | Onderwerp: Re: i will not go into that cold darkness ( ENG ) vr 7 sep 2012 - 20:14 | |
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The day was dreary, overcast and fraught with blustering gales of wind, dashing upon Vestain's mane and sending it into a wild frenzy as he ambled along. The forest was dark and gloomy with no sunlight to pour in and brighten the place up, it was almost as if walking through a very different forest, he mused. A forest where shades lived and roamed at free will...but, no, he knew that was not so. This was Minanter, albeit a darkened a intimidating Minanter, but the land of the rank one horses all the same. Shadows danced across the forest floor as he moved, the small peepings of woodland creatures nestling into dens all around. Despite the atmosphere, life here was at ease, unthreatened and cozy. He felt somewhat out of place, as if danger might suddenly appear and disturb the peace here simply because of his presence. As a Guard, he felt obliged to step in if that did happen, though, and that was slightly a paradox for his mindset. He sighed and let his mind drift, to a different place, another time.
Roses fell into place in his line of vision, petals drifting gracefully through the air, circling and swirling prettily, lazily even. The scent of the sweet blooms wafted to his flared nostrils, sending a delicious tang through his body, sweeping over his senses until he was lost to the ecstasy of lavish roses. A white mare dances in and out of focus before him, her elegant dish face peering at him with the softest blue eyes he had ever seen, draped and framed by a mane so long it trailed behind in her wake like a veil. She was the same enchanting, melancholy beauty he'd seen and had the pleasure of meeting back in Ferelden. The roses belonged to her, tucked behind her ear, tied into her mane, cascading all around her as if she were an angel. Vestain sighed wistfully, and wondered where his Delaney was now, if she was safe and warm. He'd only known her for a brief amount of time, but he was utterly smitten with her, taken so powerfully that he hated the thought of something happening to her when he wasn't around to stop it. His vision had clouded as his mind wandered, and he shook his head to bring things back into focus. He needed to stay in the present, to be aware in case something happened right before him...
He smelled something, just as he brought himself back to his senses. A metallic stench tinged with iron and sweat, an odor that instinctively put animals in a highly alerted state and attracted predators from all around. It was a smell one knew without ever having smelt it before - the sickly sweet smell of blood. Someone, somewhere near, was injured and leaving a bloody scent trail right to their position. There was another kind of smell intermingled with that smell of pain, but Vestain couldn't quite place it...nevertheless, he was obliged to locate the source, and offer what assistance he could. He turned on his path and followed the trail, his ears pricked forward and intent on hearing anything that could give away a position. He hoped he wasn't too late, that predators hadn't already found and began to harass the injured horse, or worse. He would fight them off, if they had. He moved swiftly, with a purpose and yet remained for the most part, stealthy and concealed. He didn't do so on purpose, it simply came naturally to him after so many years in his previous line of work. His best interests lie in staying relatively hidden, always just in case...just in case he had bitten off more than he could chew.
Suddenly, a mare was in sight. A silver colored mare, with the tell-tale brindling upon her legs, if only the dried and smeared bloodstains on her coat weren't concealing them. The silver color drifted into her ebon mane and tail, and had bleached her eyes as well, but she was torn and lame. Despite all her wear and tear, Vestain could tell she was beautiful beneath it, a sight for sore eyes when her own eyes did not look quite so sore. She was on the brink of giving up entirely, he could see, too weak to go on, but too delusional to slow down and rest. He bolted out of cover and instantly went to her side, giving her his entire body to lean on for support, and said as he did so, 'Here, lean on me. You're terribly wounded and you need to rest.' His voice was smooth and fluent, hopefully soothing to her perception, and he was trying to put to rest any fears a wounded mare would be expected to feel at having a well-toned stallion appear out of nowhere and charge toward them only to then reveal goodwill and generosity. Her eyes were glossy and faraway, the eyes of a dreamer stuck in another world. He steadied her, and then looked around, desperately searching for some water. He would have to lead her to a stream, he realized.
'I need you to come with me. There is a stream not far off, and you can take a drink from it. It will make you feel better, and then you can rest.' He hoped she would willingly agree, and not put up a fight. She was too weak to afford putting energy into defying him, and he worried about that.
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