Green Labyrinth
01-13-2018, 07:03 PM
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After visiting with the broken, burned, and still Uwaritace, Taivas had set her path south. She decided, quite without thinking her decision all the way through, to walk. After her startling yet fruitful venture in the Siren's Summit, the shaman began to believe deeply in the words spoken by Kisamoa. She needed to bring hope to others in this world, all sorts of creatures, if she were to restore whatever wound the realm suffered. This required her to be upon the earth, feeling the steady heartbeat of the world under her hooves, so that she could encounter those unable to test their wings by flight.
However, as she begins to traverse the long expanse of fog and mist before her, the decision to walk seems foolish.
At first, it starts as the slowing beat of the world's heart, the sickly pattern growing even more dim. The land under her hooves is strange - wrong, even. The loose dirt looks barren and lifeless, yet every once in a while, a shoot of bamboo, long since dead, is discarded on the floor. The mists swirl and pulsate with a vengeful air, and everywhere the shaman looks a face, pointed and sharp, seems to form in the fog. She clasps her eyes shut desperately for a few moments at a time, convincing herself it is the stark, grey world setting her nerves on edge.
Yet, the sense of upheaval and loss pools in every hoofprint she leaves in the dirt. Only whispers of spirits remain here, so thin like the air. Something awful happened here. It was as if life had been ripped and torn out of this portion of the Rift, and the sensation of injury, the awful injury told by the sickly beating of the earth's drum, grew stronger here.
Taivas wondered what this place was, for it looked to be nothing now.
Then, she hears it. The ever-so-slight sound muffled by the dense mists, a shuffle and slide of teeth. Panic begins to fill her gullet for a moment and her eyes dart about in the thick grey, realizing her dull light has become a bright beacon in this dark, lonely place. The small orb at her side jitters with fear, mirrored in her quivering figure, and that is when she sees it.
A giant beast in the dark with pale, slimy skin and nothing but a snout and boring teeth for a face. The mare lets out a shriek before turning tail, hoping she can outrun the monstrous thing behind her. After all, while Taivas had the lineage of great warriors, she had hardly been raised to be one. She knew nothing of battle outside of how to repair wounds. She knew not how to defend herself. And now, her naivety had once again landed her in a situation where she was ill-equipped to prevent her own end or the end of others.
She should not have come here.
However, as she begins to traverse the long expanse of fog and mist before her, the decision to walk seems foolish.
At first, it starts as the slowing beat of the world's heart, the sickly pattern growing even more dim. The land under her hooves is strange - wrong, even. The loose dirt looks barren and lifeless, yet every once in a while, a shoot of bamboo, long since dead, is discarded on the floor. The mists swirl and pulsate with a vengeful air, and everywhere the shaman looks a face, pointed and sharp, seems to form in the fog. She clasps her eyes shut desperately for a few moments at a time, convincing herself it is the stark, grey world setting her nerves on edge.
Yet, the sense of upheaval and loss pools in every hoofprint she leaves in the dirt. Only whispers of spirits remain here, so thin like the air. Something awful happened here. It was as if life had been ripped and torn out of this portion of the Rift, and the sensation of injury, the awful injury told by the sickly beating of the earth's drum, grew stronger here.
Taivas wondered what this place was, for it looked to be nothing now.
Then, she hears it. The ever-so-slight sound muffled by the dense mists, a shuffle and slide of teeth. Panic begins to fill her gullet for a moment and her eyes dart about in the thick grey, realizing her dull light has become a bright beacon in this dark, lonely place. The small orb at her side jitters with fear, mirrored in her quivering figure, and that is when she sees it.
A giant beast in the dark with pale, slimy skin and nothing but a snout and boring teeth for a face. The mare lets out a shriek before turning tail, hoping she can outrun the monstrous thing behind her. After all, while Taivas had the lineage of great warriors, she had hardly been raised to be one. She knew nothing of battle outside of how to repair wounds. She knew not how to defend herself. And now, her naivety had once again landed her in a situation where she was ill-equipped to prevent her own end or the end of others.
She should not have come here.
we tried to dream ourselves awake
[ ooc - For @Aryel
She's being chased by a Magnus Metus! I left it open but I can change that if you want. I figured the more the merrier. ]
