Green Labyrinth
Zahra & Ilham
It was pride that turned angels into devils
Though her heart rattled on and the throb of adrenaline through her boiling veins was yet to ease, the sensation of relief flooding through her core, like cool, refreshing water, was incredible. By some miracle, her father had been purged from the belly of the afterlife into her lap, there in the Rift; they’d been gifted another chance at life together, and the prospect of losing him to death for the second time, had driven savagely like a jagged blade, through her soul. All of that fear and regret – the broiling build-up of raw, rude emotion within – began to tumble from her weary eyes as the colt descended and joined her.
"I think so," she answered uncertainly, passing an inexperienced eye across the stallion’s damp, murky form. There seemed to be no blood seeping out beneath him to indicate the injury which had taken his flight – had she imagined it, the vision of one wing removed? Should his skin have been ripped or the flesh visibly wounded, her answer might have been a steady yes (for the response would’ve been different and golden blood would already be sowing him back together). As it stood, she could neither see what ailed him nor help in any way better than to guard and caress. He was far too large for either to roll.
As the charcoal tip of the younger’s handsome, patterned face proffered forward officially, Zahra met it easily with a gentle, whiskered brush and a growing, brighter grin. Ilham, with half a dozen eyes fixed upon him, mentioned meditatively, "wise words from such a young soul…” And it was true; the colt’s statement hit the golden-bellied girl square in the gut. For how long had she hidden idle, avoiding the bad – the hard - with her head buried in the sand. Guilt was quick to torture her mind, but the feeling was set aside for the sake of her sensible company.
"I’m Zahra, nice to meet you,” she hummed quietly, following the path of his eyes as they ventured thither to find another winged figure. The brown-coated girl stood yet above another fallen – another body, sprawled motionlessly across the ground. “I don’t want to hold you up,” she noted easily, a tinge of understanding icing every word. Eleos was still unmoving below her, but there was a sudden desperate yearning in her heart to help; to pay forward the kindness that was given to her. The shadows, rolling, ravaging mists seemed to be a good distance away. "Do… you know of anyone who needs a healer, or a bandage?"
@Iskra
