It is all coming to a breaking point. The screaming and biting and thrashing that sends the Pine into a tizzy. Then suddenly without warning there was pain. So much pain the beast screeched, it echoing around the forest. Their branch had been ripped away from them, nestled in the jaws of the male who had decided to assault them. And the Pine wept, crying in agony for as soon as they had landed on the forest floor they were being assaulted by millions of ants.
Between the cries there were intermittent shrieks of pain, and as time went on the thrashing began to cease. There was nothing left for them to do, they were dying and being stripped away like cheap wood for the insects to feast upon. But the ants had heard their master, and had left the skin in its wake. The noise began to settle as the creature ceased to exist, leaving behind only the branch in Eleos's jaws and the skin that it had been cloaked in. What had managed to also surpass the wrath of the ants was a teal beetle, that scuttled in the direction of the black and white boy swiftly.
With ease it crawled up the left leg of the boy, wasting no time in chomping into his flesh and burrowing itself neatly into the shoulder muscle. It writhed and wriggled aggressively for a moment before remaining still, the only sign of its existence was the subtle gleam of green protruding from the boy's shoulder.
the Rift simply explode
@Eleos - a cursed beetle has dug into your flesh for two threads! Whenever Eleos becomes angry, his leg will feel the sensation of being ripped off. After two threads it will remove itself from his shoulder.
05-06-2018, 04:51 AM (This post was last modified: 05-06-2018, 04:54 AM by Zahra.)
Zahra & Ilham
It was pride that turned angels into devils
The winged woman stood with her heart thundering wildly, ears waving wildly between beasts and thoughts in complete disarray as she watched her friend repeat his unmerciful assault, tearing in the end, the creature’s wooden-looking limb clear from its torso. The grotesque scene was surreal, a living nightmare and Zahra felt powerless to stop it. Even if she had by some miracle found a way to cease the struggle, her effort would have been in vain, for the ants were ascending the Living Tree’s body so rapidly, sliding beneath its thick bark-like skin and devouring the warm, tender flesh hidden within.
A lump formed in her throat and the horrified mare swallowed hard.
In a desperate bid to recover her flailing mind, Zahra shook heavily and rain sprayed around her like an aura of mist. She swivelled upon her trembling knees, danced towards the hole which continued to ooze the snake of summoned ants and sealed it promptly with her forehoof pressed down firmly upon it. Her eyes, fear ripe within them, flicked over to the tree. It was down, perhaps dead, and the swarm had worked diligently in mere minutes, to raise its massive carcass to the ground. It wasn’t meant to be like this, her thoughts mumbled, discombobulated and strained.
By some small mercy, the skin of the poor creature had been spared - perfectly in fact, though she cared little to examine it while Eleos stood nearby, to some degree, wounded. Her focus zoned upon him as adrenaline fed her with energy, and Zahra swept upon him, aiming to seize the severed flesh from his teeth. “Your shoulder,” she panted thereafter, settling her eyes upon the sleek wet curve above the leg she thought looked favoured. “What can I do?” Not for one second, as she hastily checked him over, did the winged daughter of the Gallant notice the enchanted scarab beneath his skin.
That heinous screeching vibrates throughout my core – ringing like a pointed finger -- like an accusation that punches down into the briny depths. Ebon soldiers wince, even from their rearward post they couldn’t hide from the horror which surpassed natural octaves. Numb, frothy jaws release the sour branch; it plops unceremoniously to the mud. Lifeless…dead (as it should be,) torn savagely from the trunk of our latest devil. I look up…wide, damp sockets absorbing the sight of death. There should've been some fragment of satisfaction; of cool water being poured over the flaming hearth, soothing the fury which raged within.
But there wasn’t any relief. No sensation of victory or triumph…only shock and anger…shock of the animation in said demon...and resentment for our current situation. Then…those unexplored emotions are blotted out...
There was only pain.
Self preservation kicks in --ash colored brims twist aggressively inwardly, desperately yawning as they groan. Ivories jerk open, spittle is flung as they frantically reach. That inflicted location quivers violently, sobbing great tears of agony. Rain drenched eyelids pinch defiantly as these jaws lunge and feet stomp into the sludge…again...and again. Each time they miss their mark; the burrowed pest lay just beyond reach. Just beyond the insanity that was willing to rip off the skin and meat it had turned like top-soil. A furious, aggravated squeal ignites, soaring toward liberty! The tart, bitter flavor of brine mingles with mud - railroading the fur with highways of grime.
I twist and that bruised shoulder rotates obediently – despite the intense flash of sharp, determined pain to inform me otherwise. The arm slides without complaint of interior structure; the skeleton and muscles were intact. Not broken. “Something, dug in,” that hard voice is ragged, pained, hardly recognizable to these ears, “can you get it!?” Fibers bellow their disdain – they weren’t keen to undergo emergency surgery -- but…if the infestation carried poison, a scar would be least of our concern.
05-07-2018, 01:22 AM (This post was last modified: 05-07-2018, 02:39 AM by Zahra.)
Zahra & Ilham
It was pride that turned angels into devils
It was over. The pinus ambulo had been caught and then unceremoniously slain. As the fear subsided, leaving the hot residue of adrenaline in her bloodstream, an apprehensive sort of relief leaked on through her core.
Standing alongside her battered friend, gave her a much sounder appreciation for his company, though she couldn’t help but wonder whether the sorry stallion was really cursed. It seemed that an unpredictable aura of doom, haunted his body - the shadows which had devoured his many powers, mists which had robbed him of flight and this, otherwise insignificant walking wood, which had darn near clobbered him to death.
She tried her very hardest to squash the growing feeling right back down, but before she could help it, the humble beginnings of a smile tickled her expression.
But the shy glimmer of repose evaporated promptly as Eleos failed to settle - neither too, did he confirm that his shoulder was not worse beneath the sleek black of his skin. His gilded hooves churned the soil beneath him to mud, thrashing, stomping and his crest bent backwards sharply while bared incisors worked viciously to reach the intruder that Zahra could not see. Her ears slithered rearward, confusion twisting her pastel complexion.
“Get what?” she hummed worriedly, not this time for the state of him physically, but for the unhinged behaviour and the obvious decay of his mental capacity.
“There’s nothing there…” she tried desperately to reassure, softening her tone and aiming to run her lips against the soggy pelt that was just beyond his reach. It was smooth, flat, knotted once, maybe twice, by the very obvious wound up nature of his brawn and her eyes returned helplessly to his, bemused and rather at a loss.
But her lips, still upon him, came upon a notch suddenly, that was different to the others. Her coloured hooves shuffled a step nearer and mud flicked up the length of her legs and flicked her lean, gold-tinged undercarriage. Scrutinising gaze felt back to work, detecting the faintest trail of diluted blood against ebony, but startling her more was the green sheen, nay glow, that was nestled in below his hide.
“There’s…” She inspected it closely, “I think it’s a bug!” Her enthusiasm upon discovering the luminous arthropod was unquestionably inappropriate, and she turned to him with wide, impressed eyes, “It's stuck down under your skin!”
05-08-2018, 05:06 PM (This post was last modified: 05-08-2018, 05:11 PM by Eleos.)
Crazy! The dry accusation thrusts into my flaming subconscious, wildly scattering cinder. Stunned, pained eyes turn to her unenlightened, grave expression. Those pale honey irises might communicate concern and gleam with effort to afford entertaining…but her pretty lips betray the intent with suspicion. She…judges I’ve gone mad. She thinks the wet, squishy stuff between these ears has become useless pulp.
Molars grind in frustration and bite against another stroke of white hot agony when my inflicted muscles scream another verse of their mournful song. We are being torn apart! They cry, save us! The flesh defiantly bellows, rejecting reason and logic. As she nears, the agonized limb trembles violently; barely managing to remain planted when her damp breath and sensitive whiskers hone in. Without fully realizing it…my internal cogs brace for the arrow of insanity, for her to pull the trigger and accept that disease had set in.
The entire situation would be summed as an illusion for one of us; the consequence of a corroding mind.
Ebon sentinels flick upward (despite the pain,) startled into alertness by her sudden realization. “Aye!” I agreed roughly, surfacing for breath on the crest of a jagged, relived exhale. I still hadn’t seen the pestilence; but the feel of tiny digits and gnawing jaw fed my horrible imagination. Without obvious cause, the broken, torn sensation in my limb fractionally subsides. The loosening of that terrible noose gave me a millimeter of patience and endurance, to which I cash in by repeating the previous request, “can you get it?” Blazing orbs turn aside, their rings of gold are liquid and desperate.
There was far to much enthusiasm surrounding her discovery, unquestionably, but Zahra was more than taken by any creature of the arthropod variety - beneath the skin of her friend, or not. As he stood their bristled and in agony beneath her narrowed examining stare, the painted mare tried to ascertain just what exactly they were dealing with, whether it was dangerous or perhaps just lost. “It’s uh…” she mumbled, distractedly ignoring his harrowed question when it again pressed her ears.
It was beautiful. Sooty lips curled upwards admiringly.
She wanted to reassure him, to capture it and keep it even more, but the flesh surrounding the tiny creature’s burrow-site flinched and trembled terribly. The scarab was well and truly stuck. “It’s pretty rooted in there…” she explained gently, carefully, snorting softly towards Eleos’s turned face; and sure of the gravity of his plight (the fact that it would not easily be rectified), Zahra tried to lighten the mood. “There sure is a nice glow around it though…”
Stepping back, eyes still glued to the site, the pegasus mare shuffled the densely feathered wings by each flank; the glassy, coloured primaries glistened attractively in the dreary light. Lips dipped, grappling for the spear which was concealed beneath the main joint, the razor-like tip, sliding with deliberate pressure against the prick so that a small amount of her blessed blood might be drawn. “Hold still,” Zahra told him, then aligning her chin so that the drips would dangle and fall upon the wound left upon the surface. Should he allow it, the curious fluid would sew back together the torn, bruised tissue there and leave a light, golden scar.
My stomach twists, knotting with the threat of nausea strolling onto the scene. Agonized determination braces itself for the feel of her weapon, for callous steel to part flesh and pry the wretched thing out. Her murmur of confirmation sends these eyes rotating -- hurrying to pull their concentration aside -- focusing on some uninteresting patch of dirt in this accursed place. Nostrils swell, quivering the whiskers anxiously, “be quick and true,” one betraying ear slides fractional toward her. Listening keenly (despite my desire to remain unaware) for the metallic click of an unsheathed weapon. Molars grind, firmly shutting the doors against any sound of traitorous resistance.
As she draws near...these eyelids squint, bracing...but the expectant increase of pain didn't arrive. Instead…that bone shattering agony slacks off, strangling mid lash. Horror and stoic resistance morphs sharply into one of confusion –these bewildered irises dare to look in her direction. They scan those clear, tawny eyes before noticing the dribble of liquid sliding down her lower jaw like a vein of gold carved into rock. The pain in my shoulder evaporates, gradually ebbing from a throb, to a pulse and finally an ache. It was perfectly tolerable in comparison to the level of torment before. I rotate that shoulder, forming assumptions as the fluid motion works out those remaining irritants. The infected mark is out of view, far enough so Zahra's work is hidden – I could only assume the disgusting pestilence was dealt with.
Resentful shockwaves travel the length of me, “it had what you need?" Purposeful distraction; and there was more than one note of gratitude to be rid of our chore. Willingly, my attention settles upon the dirty, leathery corpse. These jaws stretch apart, reaching down without flinch to pluck her trophy; and though a stew of unpleasantness clings to my tongue the most unpleasant part was the spongy...flesh like texture. It sat against my tongue, heavy and cold. Swiftly, the flap of bark is placed unceremoniously upon my back...our sin nesting amid tainted ivory pins.
Perhaps her intentions weren’t quite travelling the same train of thought as his own. Zahra was enthralled by the presence of the intricate, glowing creature which had rather ungraciously made a nest for itself beneath Eleos’s wet skin. Though her ear turned to the sound of his voice—his wish that it’s removal would be swift—the young mare barely realised his expectation; after all, she could see clearly that it would take a considerable amount of gouging and depth to rid it from his tissue. She had neither the desire to spill his blood this time, or the equipment to facilitate it.
With eyes straining to keep contact with the spot and chin hovering a thin string of blood above it, Zahra sealed it in, cleansing him with any luck of the pain the burrow had created (and potentially too, that which the tree’s burly bough had inflicted). The movement of his dark, glossy face towards her lured the painted girl’s attention away—an overly bright, slightly guilty, smile greeted him. “Yes,” she said promptly, “more than necessary really…” but already an idea had formed in her mind. The living tree’s skin would not be wasted, that was certain.
The stallion bent with returning ease, revealing the quality of the effect of the blessed blood he’d given her in another life, and retrieved the soggy skin which lay still on the earth where the ants had devoured its innards. Zahra was utterly relieved that the ordeal was over. So many months had been lost trying to finish the trial, and to think that they’d be free to wander again—revel in the treats which she knew the Rift did hold—filled her with immeasurable gladness. Throwing him a gentle smile (and dancing her eyes back to the softly going point on his lean rump), the princess of Hidden Falls turned to lead Eleos north, away from the summit.
“talk"
Siren's Summit
