The Portal
08-27-2017, 03:10 PM
It is lured in by something, but what, it is doubtful you will ever know.
It is one of the Rainforest's deepest, darkest secrets—one of its lost, unfortunate children. It wandered upon ghostly, translucent limbs, sturdy bones like shadows beneath its pallid skin. Its spine jutted sharply beneath the thin veneer of skin, and long tendrils took attention from the grotesque curve of its back. Lights glowed upon them, soothing and gentle, so at odds with the creature's hideous shape. It is not canine, nor feline, nor cervine or equine or.. resembling anything, truly. Its hind end is much smaller than the muscular chest, like something under-developed, but despite this, it moves with ease. It is not hindered by its awkward physique, but lumbers along with surprising grace and speed.
Soon, it catches the scent of the two horses. The gait becomes faster, and it flits from tree to tree, stalking you from the shadows, impossibly fast with its mismatched body—grotesque with the show of writhing muscles and sinews beneath the transparent skin, and the black, black teeth growing in its gums.
You should run. Both of you.
It's upon you in an instant, by fate closer to Lace than the mare, and when its square jaws open, it emits a high-pitched, mournful cry, and a smoke of black toxins. It is not unpleasant to inhale, it does not sting the throat, the eyes, or the lungs, and the effects are not, at first, unpleasant either. It is like floating, perhaps on a gentle sea, perhaps in sunlight, or moonlight, like separating from your anxiety and worry and simply being.. but it doesn't stop there. Bit by bit it erases you from your own mind, taking everything but your consciousness, leaving you detached and confused and disconnected.
It might still be pleasant. It doesn't know. It just knows that the black cloud makes its prey pliable, unable to properly react or defend itself, as it sinks its black teeth into the gray stallion's warm neck. His blood is hot and sweet and even as his knees buckle and he topples to the forest floor, the Walker does not let go. The sensation of someone bleeding out its in mouth, a tide of salt and metal tastes, is much too good to waste on moss.
It doesn't care about the mare, not yet. Its strong jaws and sharp teeth savage the so recently revived, devouring him.
If you haven't already, Dallilja, you definitely should run now.
[ Per request of his player, Lace has been killed. @Dallilja is probably enough outside of range to be able to get away before her mind gets too addled! ]
It is one of the Rainforest's deepest, darkest secrets—one of its lost, unfortunate children. It wandered upon ghostly, translucent limbs, sturdy bones like shadows beneath its pallid skin. Its spine jutted sharply beneath the thin veneer of skin, and long tendrils took attention from the grotesque curve of its back. Lights glowed upon them, soothing and gentle, so at odds with the creature's hideous shape. It is not canine, nor feline, nor cervine or equine or.. resembling anything, truly. Its hind end is much smaller than the muscular chest, like something under-developed, but despite this, it moves with ease. It is not hindered by its awkward physique, but lumbers along with surprising grace and speed.
Soon, it catches the scent of the two horses. The gait becomes faster, and it flits from tree to tree, stalking you from the shadows, impossibly fast with its mismatched body—grotesque with the show of writhing muscles and sinews beneath the transparent skin, and the black, black teeth growing in its gums.
You should run. Both of you.
It's upon you in an instant, by fate closer to Lace than the mare, and when its square jaws open, it emits a high-pitched, mournful cry, and a smoke of black toxins. It is not unpleasant to inhale, it does not sting the throat, the eyes, or the lungs, and the effects are not, at first, unpleasant either. It is like floating, perhaps on a gentle sea, perhaps in sunlight, or moonlight, like separating from your anxiety and worry and simply being.. but it doesn't stop there. Bit by bit it erases you from your own mind, taking everything but your consciousness, leaving you detached and confused and disconnected.
It might still be pleasant. It doesn't know. It just knows that the black cloud makes its prey pliable, unable to properly react or defend itself, as it sinks its black teeth into the gray stallion's warm neck. His blood is hot and sweet and even as his knees buckle and he topples to the forest floor, the Walker does not let go. The sensation of someone bleeding out its in mouth, a tide of salt and metal tastes, is much too good to waste on moss.
It doesn't care about the mare, not yet. Its strong jaws and sharp teeth savage the so recently revived, devouring him.
If you haven't already, Dallilja, you definitely should run now.
[ Per request of his player, Lace has been killed. @Dallilja is probably enough outside of range to be able to get away before her mind gets too addled! ]
the Rift
