Ultima
OH, MY EYES ARE SEEING RED DOUBLE VISION FROM THE BLOOD WE'VE SHED The intimacy of her touch is not lost on him, and it comes as something of a relief. She has seemed distant and aloof since their night together, and he's been concerned that she has is upset with him. Obviously the move to the Rift and the loss of so many of his loved ones has taken priority, but he's glad that her movement seems to assauge those lingering fears of his. "Of course I did," comes his response, tinged with surprise at her doubt in him. Volterra is a lot of things - an ill-tempered, rash, arrogant cad to name just a few - but he's extremely reliable, especially when it concerns his friends and lovers. This icy mare is both, so it's only natural that the mammoth male would heed her summons. She gets straight to the point. Her question bids his expression to darken, from the scarred skin around his muzzle straight up to the cold, dead crimson pits that are his eyes. What does he think of the Rift? Oh, are there even enough words to describe it? "That depends on how honest you wish me to be," he replies, his voice barely louder than an animalistic growl with the force of his hatred towards this corrupted place. "I loathe it all, Erthë. It is not my home, and it is inhabited by creatures from the pits of Hell itself. I fucking detest every single tree that dares bury its roots here, and every single corrupted beast that prowls these shadows. Each day I spend here is a day that I can never get back, and each minute that passes is a minute that I spend thinking about how the fuck I'm meant to survive here, bring up my children and protect them here. It's a minute I spend trying not to think about everything I've lost." The outburst is unexpected, even to him. As soon as the words leave his mouth he regrets them; Volterra may be quick to anger, but he is not quick to share his emotions in such a way, or place his feelings as a burden on top of somebody else. He is at the end of his tether, though. He has been strong for his family, their pillar of strength and support, but all the time he's just falling apart. Maybe this is the result - a red-hot rant, an outpouring of all the loathing he feels towards this place. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, sharing defiantly into the middle distance. His voice is lower this time, but no less thunderous; it is an oath, a promise, a vow. "Kaos took everything from me. So I will take everything from him." |
