Twice more I hear the noise like cycling wind. Twice more I am met with nothing but the emptiness of the wild beach. It is incredibly unnerving and I find that I am once more layered in a light film of sweat. It drips casually down my neck, rubbing uncomfortably between my thighs. The voices in my head have gone silent, for once, a blessing.
There are rocks everywhere, the further I walk the more pronounced and angry they look. One particular set of stones rises up and up and up into the makings of a sheer cliff. Sharp edges with tips slathered in the oceans spittle. Foam washes far up onto the sand, far enough to tangle messily around my hooves as I walk. With a few long glances to the water I think I may have come to a conclusion on the identity of what raged and rattled in the distance. Tall spires of salty liquid shoot up in an occasional geyser of built-up pressure, making me wince every time. Although I have never seen one with my own eyes, I have heard in passing of such things called ‘whirlpools’. They are like underwater cyclones that eat all in their path, sending lost souls to their end with nary a blink. At least… this is the gossip I know. Do I know for sure if this
thing was one such whirlpool? Not at all, but my brain could not produce a better answer in the moment.
It is only natural then, that while my brain is occupied, that something would happen. Thankfully it is no more than the appearance of another horse. (
Stop!).
I turn in complete - foolish! - surprise to find a golden-coated stallion at my rear. He is tall, robust, and deceptively thin. The brown of his eyes spoke volumes while his face remained remarkably passive. But this was not the most fascinating (horrifying) thing about him, no. It was the fact that he could so easily approach me out in the middle of nowhere, in a strange place no less, with hardly a bat of his lashes. It was plainly obvious that he held no fear, at least, not that I could openly see. Pale eyes widen imperceptibly, brows rocketing skyward. How? How could he be so
relaxed? Was- was he a creation of this Rift? Was he a design of Kaos come to spin false comfort into my head?
“
Who cares about the weather, who are you? Have you come to steal my soul? Hurt me? Come no closer!” My voice shakes far more than I like, my legs tremble, my body stiff. He was rather large and the horns on his head looked good for goring unsuspecting prey.
"Talk."
@
Thranduilooc - this is so bad, I'm so sorry ;_;)
Riptide Isles
