The Portal
Pissed off Riftian
Bellisma
Her tiny heart—it beats a panicked staccato in her chest the moment she saw the sharp teeth and forked tongue it the air. Or, perhaps more appropriately: it beat an even faster pace, for the terrified pixie’s heat was already racing. Bright green eyes, now widely rimmed in white, dart from the bespectacled face to the shadows around her with a panicked rapidity.
You’re in hell.
Surprisingly, these words did not have quite the effect one would expect on the little mare. Mostly because this painfully delicate small creature had already survived hell—and often revisited one of her own making in sweat-shaking nightmares. However, the affect it did have was a half-stutter backwards and an all-consuming desire to escape.
Her deeply dished face snapped back towards the way she had run from. How far were the shadows that engulfed Helovia? Returning to nothing would be better than returning to hell.
But there was something that stopped her—a thought. Two thoughts, really. Kianzo; the colt she had come to love. And the nagging feeling of a fullness, a new weight, in her barrel. She wouldn't dare hope (for it’s such a poisonous thing)…yet she still did not turn and run to that shadowed death behind her.
Her small, trembling back lips parted, but her paralyzed vocal cords could not push any words past them to respond to the tall, dapple-grey stallion. She couldn’t decide which of his four eyes to focus on, so her scared gaze glance between all four.
However, she needn’t have spoke, for another came, wreathed in light—though its calming hue was put off by the large spikes jutting from her body. Bellisma’s wide, green gaze darted up and down each long length as the black and white mare stood along side her. Her abuse-familiar body flinched at another’s heat so close to her own hot skin out of instinct.
Yet, her soft words did have an affect on the delicate creature; a soft and short breath blew out of her wide black nostrils (to relive the paralysis of her voice) before she could manage a simple, “I’ve lived through hell…before.” Her gaze darted between the two, lips working nervously; her words were not bragging—just simply truthful…and, perhaps the only thing her terrified brain could manage to scrounge out.
“I’m here because—” but, before her small, yet pleasantly musical voice, could falter out any more answers to the snake-faced brute, another beast appeared. This one large and monstrous with a booming voice and commanding air.
And it sent the poor Bellisma quivering all over again.
Men such as he were absolute. They were powerful. Where ones like the snake-man would taunt, torture, and other hurt you—they got bored and moved on soon enough. It was creatures like the black behemoth that were resolute; they wreaked of power, sex, and death; they returned, over and over…Bellisma had been used by warmongers such as these many times.
So she slipped backwards, in the black and white woman’s shadow, using the orb-mare as a physical shield.
Then another appears, and the copper pixie nearly expires. Her skin vibrates, so hard is she trembling, now. Though this is a young mare, which is not nearly as threatening as a stallion. But along side her is a dong—and Bellisma has been hunted by such creatures before. She blinks repeatedly, staring at the creature, before finally lowering in head in submission…submission to all of them.
Surprisingly, these words did not have quite the effect one would expect on the little mare. Mostly because this painfully delicate small creature had already survived hell—and often revisited one of her own making in sweat-shaking nightmares. However, the affect it did have was a half-stutter backwards and an all-consuming desire to escape.
Her deeply dished face snapped back towards the way she had run from. How far were the shadows that engulfed Helovia? Returning to nothing would be better than returning to hell.
But there was something that stopped her—a thought. Two thoughts, really. Kianzo; the colt she had come to love. And the nagging feeling of a fullness, a new weight, in her barrel. She wouldn't dare hope (for it’s such a poisonous thing)…yet she still did not turn and run to that shadowed death behind her.
Her small, trembling back lips parted, but her paralyzed vocal cords could not push any words past them to respond to the tall, dapple-grey stallion. She couldn’t decide which of his four eyes to focus on, so her scared gaze glance between all four.
However, she needn’t have spoke, for another came, wreathed in light—though its calming hue was put off by the large spikes jutting from her body. Bellisma’s wide, green gaze darted up and down each long length as the black and white mare stood along side her. Her abuse-familiar body flinched at another’s heat so close to her own hot skin out of instinct.
Yet, her soft words did have an affect on the delicate creature; a soft and short breath blew out of her wide black nostrils (to relive the paralysis of her voice) before she could manage a simple, “I’ve lived through hell…before.” Her gaze darted between the two, lips working nervously; her words were not bragging—just simply truthful…and, perhaps the only thing her terrified brain could manage to scrounge out.
“I’m here because—” but, before her small, yet pleasantly musical voice, could falter out any more answers to the snake-faced brute, another beast appeared. This one large and monstrous with a booming voice and commanding air.
And it sent the poor Bellisma quivering all over again.
Men such as he were absolute. They were powerful. Where ones like the snake-man would taunt, torture, and other hurt you—they got bored and moved on soon enough. It was creatures like the black behemoth that were resolute; they wreaked of power, sex, and death; they returned, over and over…Bellisma had been used by warmongers such as these many times.
So she slipped backwards, in the black and white woman’s shadow, using the orb-mare as a physical shield.
Then another appears, and the copper pixie nearly expires. Her skin vibrates, so hard is she trembling, now. Though this is a young mare, which is not nearly as threatening as a stallion. But along side her is a dong—and Bellisma has been hunted by such creatures before. She blinks repeatedly, staring at the creature, before finally lowering in head in submission…submission to all of them.
Scared Bell is scared D:
