|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Sat Feb 22, 2014 1:06 am
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 22, 2014 8:31 pm
 |
|
|
|
The whole world was shades of grey. Was this right, was it wrong? Should I do this? Or maybe that? It was all up for interpretation. All of it.
As far as Solys was concerned, there wasn't a deed done purely for the purpose of good. The cynical mare had yet to see anyone prove her wrong, so she had no reason to believe otherwise. There was no such thing as ideals. Ideals were for dreamers who didn't live in the real world. The real world was all shades of grey.
-----
The mare was breathing heavy, her hooves dragged along the ground but she was determined to find safer ground. She had to put as much distance between herself and what just happened as she could manage. Her head pounded and she had to blink much too often, but this wasn't safe ground, and damned if she was going to get picked off by some despicable vulture now.
She had passed other springs along the way, but each was too exposed. Exposure was not what she needed now. What she needed was cover and somewhere to curl up and nap. Just a quick shut-eye.... just a nod or two would be good.
There!
Finally she spotted a spring next to a scarcely visible cave. Big heavy brush weighed the outline of the mouth of what was scarcely big enough for two to lie down side by side. This would do. She'd have a quick drink and then pull herself to this rocky haven and take a quick nap before continuing on.
Dipping her nose into the spring, Solys sighed heavily as the cool water drenched her dry throat. That was exactly what she had needed. 'Now, about that nap...' she thought to herself as she assessed the foliage. Dragging down the biggest branches to cover the cavern's opening as best she could, the injured mare settled in for just an hour or two...
The mare fell asleep almost instantly, feeling safe enough for the time being. Should a passerby be quite astute, they may hear a ragged breathing near the enticing spring. And should that stranger inspect closer, they may even spy a somewhat hidden black mare with big fluffy ears and feline tail wearing some strange apparel. Her shoulders were covered with brass armor that seemed well strapped to her, and along her back a beautifully gathered wolf pelt kept her warm. But perhaps most disturbingly, that stranger may just notice what was causing the haggard breathing. Haphazardly covered by that wolf pelt, the mare had enormous gashes running across her side that probably stretched up most of her back. And perhaps the smell of this fresh wound is what would draw that stranger in.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Nyx Queen of Darkness Crew
|
Posted: Sun Feb 23, 2014 12:29 am
|
|
|
 |
The scars had scabbed over on his flesh, but there were deeper wounds--ones that would never really heal. Baraccus had taken his mother long ago in that cave. He had carved her into pieces leaving Karloff to wake up in the blood. Then he had made him a prisoner, forcing him to make his father Klaus leave or be killed.
Sometimes, he wondered if his father hated him? Did he think of him? Did he look for him? Did it matter? The questions rattled about in his head. But nothing was ever answered. There were no answers.
When he had awoken those months ago, bleeding and scared, he'd looked for Ailbhe. But all he had found was blood...Blood everywhere. And for the first time in years, the smell of it made his stomach revolt because he knew that blood as he knew the mare who'd shed it.
Ailbhe!
Ailbhe.
Ailbhe...
The fight, he remembered later along with the taunts. and he knew what Baraccus had did. He'd made good on his promise, he'd killed what he loved. There was so much blood...there was no way she could have survived. Still, he had searched for days for her body, to give her a last goodbye but he was denied even that.
Months had past sense then. He'd had time to heal and time to plan how he would defeat Baraccus. He had told Lucian. He had visited with him. And then, he had set on the path to ma--
His nostrils dilated and he sniffed the air.
Blood.
It was strong, thick. The kind of blood from a healing wound or at least one that was attempting to heal. He followed the scent. It held a tangy, woodsy smell and....fish?
He sniffed the air again. The blood had hints of the sea in it, of fish eaten or swam long with. He moved carefully after the smell. The smell of it was delicious, inviting enough to make his mouth water. But he could tell that there was bleeding, a lot of it.
It was no a skinwalker, the putrid stink of their blood was telling and this was not pungent in the least. On cat feet, he crept along the trail warily until he came upon the water. Here and there were tracks, good sized and heavy with either pain or weight.
The smell came rolling out stronger from a cave nearby. He lifted his head and scented the air, his sides quivered as he inhaled and the muscles rippled over the scarring painfully.
Someone was in that small cave, wounded.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Feb 23, 2014 12:24 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
