Tar Pits
angel, wrestle me
crack my sides to let me see
crack my sides to let me see
His movements were sluggish and quiet, unhurried, utterly aimless in his wandering. His wings were tucked tightly to his sides in an effort to conserve warmth. The warm down of his feathers and the ever thickening coat upon his body, did little to fend off the bite of the cold. He had an over whelming urge to hiss in disgust. Where that primeval, instinctual feeling came from, he did not know. It crept from deep within his soul. The part connected to deep, ancient roots. A hidden, dark pit he knew not of, or refused to acknowledge. What ever the case may be that irritated hiss bubbled and boiled within his blood, building into an outraged roar. A furious challenge to the world that had drained it of its untapped powers. This unbridled rage broiled within him, mixing with the cold depression that clutched his heart in icy talons. Until nothing but a numb, emotionless state remained as the two polar opposite collided. Leaving him empty as the memories of the hurt, and anger upon Kiada's face continued to flash before his eyes. Like a cruel movie. Constant. Unending. Merciless.
Her words had cut him deeper than any wound ever would. He had thought that he knew pain, knew the anguish of loss. But never before had experienced this kind of throbbing, ceaseless ache. Like a wound filled with salt. Knowing that it was he, rather then another, who had caused Kiada such pain: He who had brought this situation down upon himself, made the pain far worse. Never before had he ever done another wrong. Not in the sense that most would consider. His parents had always told him that it was his fault when another was punished for his existence. But he had never caused those he cared for pain by betraying them. His parents were right. He was nothing but a beast. A child born with the blood of a monster. Destined to cause others harm and destruction. The voices of his parents echoed in his mind. Joining with Kiada's hate filled words until he was not sure if he even deserved to live anymore. The words of those who had cared for him, those who had died for him. Were lost to the depths of his despair.
All he saw was the pain he had caused. Here and in the world before. And so he left. Honoring Kiada's wishes he had left the ruined city far behind. Wondering for who knew how long. He was blind to the world around him. Allowing his mere instincts to lead him. He was only vaguely aware of the sand as it squeaked and shifted underfoot. Still he did not take in the world around him. The blood, still disturbed by the world it had been forced into. It reached out to the world. Sensing something it craved. Something it had had since times long before. Warmth. The dragon-kin was unaware of the change in direction that he subconsciously made. Only that, after weeks of aimlessly wandering, his body came to a halt. His skin twitched as a familiar, yet alien sensation wrapped around him. Heat.
Nose wrinkling as he registered the acrid scent, he lifted his head. The foul fumes accosting his sense of sight and smell, bringing his mind to the forefront for the first time in a long while. He was forced to look at the world he now lived in. Miles of endless sand sprawled around him. Before him a sickly, bubbling goo sizzled and seethed in the sand before his claws. How had he gotten here? he only vaguely remembered entering this place. Though he was not sure how long ago that was. With awareness, came the exhaustion. It hit him like a mountain falling atop his shoulders. His legs shook violently. He gasped as his forelegs, unable to carry him any further, buckled. The sand was soft, but not forgiving as the massive beast fell. The air fled from his lungs in a heavy gasp. He did not have the strength to chase after it, his lugs taking in small, shallow whispers. His head lay on the mound of warm sand. Warm, so warm. He had not felt this way in so long. If only he could just lay here and sleep. Sleep...
Something scurried before his nose. He opened his eyes to see a strange rodent shuffling from its hiding place towards the rancid water the lay near by. For the first time Roscorro realized that he was starving. His fangs itched, and that hidden part of his soul urged him to lash out, to snatch the small beast as it came within reach. Not many knew that the stallion was born with teeth of an omnivore. Fangs, molars, teeth to grind and tear. He was capable of eating both flesh and grass. Though his tender soul had never allowed him to partake of the meat of another living soul. He was infinitely grateful that his parents had never learned of the odd physical makeup of his interior. Or else they would have come up with horrible punishment involving his carnivores capabilities. In his weakened metal state, he might have actually given in the to savage desire. But his body would not move. He was too tired. So tired. He just needed to sleep. Yes. Rest and regain his strength. Then he would find food. For the briefest of moment the stallion had forgotten of Kiada as the blackness edged in on his vision, consuming him in its gentle embrace.
"TALK HERE"
Her words had cut him deeper than any wound ever would. He had thought that he knew pain, knew the anguish of loss. But never before had experienced this kind of throbbing, ceaseless ache. Like a wound filled with salt. Knowing that it was he, rather then another, who had caused Kiada such pain: He who had brought this situation down upon himself, made the pain far worse. Never before had he ever done another wrong. Not in the sense that most would consider. His parents had always told him that it was his fault when another was punished for his existence. But he had never caused those he cared for pain by betraying them. His parents were right. He was nothing but a beast. A child born with the blood of a monster. Destined to cause others harm and destruction. The voices of his parents echoed in his mind. Joining with Kiada's hate filled words until he was not sure if he even deserved to live anymore. The words of those who had cared for him, those who had died for him. Were lost to the depths of his despair.
All he saw was the pain he had caused. Here and in the world before. And so he left. Honoring Kiada's wishes he had left the ruined city far behind. Wondering for who knew how long. He was blind to the world around him. Allowing his mere instincts to lead him. He was only vaguely aware of the sand as it squeaked and shifted underfoot. Still he did not take in the world around him. The blood, still disturbed by the world it had been forced into. It reached out to the world. Sensing something it craved. Something it had had since times long before. Warmth. The dragon-kin was unaware of the change in direction that he subconsciously made. Only that, after weeks of aimlessly wandering, his body came to a halt. His skin twitched as a familiar, yet alien sensation wrapped around him. Heat.
Nose wrinkling as he registered the acrid scent, he lifted his head. The foul fumes accosting his sense of sight and smell, bringing his mind to the forefront for the first time in a long while. He was forced to look at the world he now lived in. Miles of endless sand sprawled around him. Before him a sickly, bubbling goo sizzled and seethed in the sand before his claws. How had he gotten here? he only vaguely remembered entering this place. Though he was not sure how long ago that was. With awareness, came the exhaustion. It hit him like a mountain falling atop his shoulders. His legs shook violently. He gasped as his forelegs, unable to carry him any further, buckled. The sand was soft, but not forgiving as the massive beast fell. The air fled from his lungs in a heavy gasp. He did not have the strength to chase after it, his lugs taking in small, shallow whispers. His head lay on the mound of warm sand. Warm, so warm. He had not felt this way in so long. If only he could just lay here and sleep. Sleep...
Something scurried before his nose. He opened his eyes to see a strange rodent shuffling from its hiding place towards the rancid water the lay near by. For the first time Roscorro realized that he was starving. His fangs itched, and that hidden part of his soul urged him to lash out, to snatch the small beast as it came within reach. Not many knew that the stallion was born with teeth of an omnivore. Fangs, molars, teeth to grind and tear. He was capable of eating both flesh and grass. Though his tender soul had never allowed him to partake of the meat of another living soul. He was infinitely grateful that his parents had never learned of the odd physical makeup of his interior. Or else they would have come up with horrible punishment involving his carnivores capabilities. In his weakened metal state, he might have actually given in the to savage desire. But his body would not move. He was too tired. So tired. He just needed to sleep. Yes. Rest and regain his strength. Then he would find food. For the briefest of moment the stallion had forgotten of Kiada as the blackness edged in on his vision, consuming him in its gentle embrace.
"TALK HERE"
that if the end will set me free
or send me down below
or send me down below
Roscarro
image credit to jonathon_brandt at flickr
@Taivas
OOC: By baby is so broken! TvT On the bright side. I am finding my writing mojo again!
You have my permission to use magic/force against Roscorro.
Maiming and killing is not allowed, though.
Maiming and killing is not allowed, though.
