Nothing is ever certain (Part 1)

When at last she vanishes into our audience of dithering smoke, a sense of depraved emptiness (helplessness) spreads in her wake. Reeds of fog curl their neon fingers over those rapidly disappearing prints... curdling...hindering... Beyond me, the immediate vantage is swallowed by that misshapen gloom. These quivering, rain soaked lips purse and lean down; angling tenderly upon the discarded, platinum heirloom. Brims rest softly upon it's amber ornament, ‘hile, old friend.’ Splayed nostrils can taste the fading presence of ebon hair which is still trapped upon the plush, damp leather. Her scent invokes those figurative lacerations; widening the grieving cavity within me. Her memory still clung to those worn fibers…but our nasty environment is intent upon cleansing every trace. Silently, my shallow neck leans in further; allowing thick clumps of sodden hair to shave the mud beneath. Eyelids fold to shield their fragile iris, ears follow suit while I press the base of my chin gradually beneath the angled tip. One dribbling foreleg ascends to fold over the rear of said collar – acting like a brace to keep it from jarring aside. With continual effort - and experimentation - that metallic piece clicks soundly into place. It's slight weight rests awkwardly upon my extended neck until I straighten...slowly, the plates glide down and become the perfect mate of indentions. Their form-fitted shape drives it home. Inaudibly, the metal pulses; vibrating like a heartbeat. Magic persists within those atoms that mold it. My internal will reaches for those metallic plates and chains. Obediently, (outwardly) they rush apart; snapping together. Plates of steel awake from their slumber. Sun-dipped pinions flex apart, allowing the reemergence of those familiar blades... The armor collapses seconds later...easing my burden to travel in this sludge filled world. -exits-   OC: Zahra abandons her enchanted armor -- Eleos picks it up.

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