The Portal
There would be none that she would expect to encounter in this land that she had been shit out into. Rhiannon's mood had darkened considerably from the after effects of whatever had just happened, heart crippled and heavy, pace brisk from the desire to just get the hell out of there and never look back. Never would she expect to meet another. Never would she even think of happening to cross paths with one she might know, one she might recognize and who might, on the off chance, remember northern mountains and frozen lakes tucked in the recesses of the world, unwelcome to outsiders and prying visitors alike. All she knew was that when she spotted him, a blight of darkness against a similarly dark world, the devil halted. Froze. Stared. Paralyzed, muscles coiled and taut with tension, flesh quivering upon ever curve of brindled musculature. Waiting. Preparing. A trick, her paranoid mind supplied in a voice that sounded oddly like Crowley's incessant ramblings, he isn't real. He isn't real, Nonnie. He isn't REAL. RUN. "... Erebos." His name was emitted upon the gravel of a whisper. Salvation on her tongue and redemption when he did not disappear before two-toned irises. He had grown. Oh, how he had grown, and she could see so much of his father in him. His father... Deimos had not been lost among the slaughter, but seeing his princely son here, all dark and glistening and iconic perfection did not soothe the brindled's addled mind. It did not assuage her torn heart. It did nothing except drive the stake further into her breast, cementing the fact that this was not home and that their mountains were forever gone. Finally, after far too many moments of tension, the coil of panic, of the need to act dissipated, leaving the proud mare standing still but compliant. She allowed her eyes to soak in Erebos' form, roaming him, assessing and remembering and memorizing. Even if this was an illusion, it was a damn good one, and she wouldn't be the first in her family to have lost their mind. Then, he showed concern. Concern. For her. Erebos showed concern, his features twisted with worry for her, and Rhiannon was undone. "No," the dark beast bemoaned, damning her stubborn pride to the sticking place and hoping to never see it again, "No, Erebos. I'm not alright. I... I am lost." And she meant that in so much more than the simple meaning of the word. "This land is vast and strange and I've already been molested by mists and shadows, and I just..." Her voice croaked and cracked and Rhiannon trailed off, struggling to formulate the words that so desperately needed to be spoken. "I don't know where to go. Are there others? Here, I mean. In this land. Are there others of the Basin here?" Please. Please. |
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@Erebos
