A Storm Upon The Waters

"FUCK!" he shouted, not really caring who heard; because his shoulder hurt like hell and he didn't know a damn thing about fixing it. After the fight with the terminator wannabe he had run away to lick his wounds quietly; except what he didn't know is that wounds as bad as his shoulder puncture didn't just go away. So he had sat on it for about a week, waiting for it to slowly close up and heal into an ugly scar, but as the days wore on it only grew more painful, irritated, and soon pus began to ooze from its edges. He had dunked himself into the ocean once or twice, hoping the salt would help in the healing process. All it had really done was hurt like a motherfucker. So he was back for a third time, limping quite badly and a grimace across his dark features. His rusty eyes were bloodshot from the lack of sleep, and his hooves were beginning to develop thrush from him constantly walking in the moist parts of the land. Drench was a cruel bitch, and he never knew how to exactly escape its wrath. As he neared the edges of the cliffs, his bleary eyes managed to find someone else standing alone in the rain. It was obviously a woman, curvy and with a coat of regal purple silk. Her mane and tail eagerly clung to her curves, and unless the infection was causing him to hallucinate, he was certain she had star shine swimming in her fur. He stopped in his place, squinting his eyes to ensure it was actually another horse, before picking up his limping pace in her direction. "HEY!" he shamelessly crowed as he made his approach,"HOW ABOUT INSTEAD OF LOOKING LONGINGLY INTO THE SEA YOU HELP A RIFTIAN OUT. THIS AIN'T TITANIC AND YOU'RE NOT ON TOP OF THE WORLD ROSE!" In all honesty, even if he didn't need to yell to be heard over the howling wind, he likely still would. Just because there was no volume down button on Ricochet. DON'T LET THE BASTARDS GRIND YOU DOWN

@K'yarie - my posts will likely be longer the further we go.