03-24-2018, 09:09 PM
As the Screeches vanish through the bamboo, some scattering along the passageway ahead of you, the grip of incapacity weakens and then fails completely.
You are free: go, escape!
There is another sound amid the fading noise, however. It is dulled within the chorus of the Screecher’s chaotic ambush, but it is there and it is laced with fear.
A young Cervavo has wandered far from its home in Solanis and the beautiful creature had become lost - very lost. It cries bitterly, hungry and alone, unable to find the end of the massive, confusing labyrinth and now it has attracted the attention of the predators. It is terrified and the scent is thick upon the air, only exciting the Screechers voracious appetites and fuelling their motivation.
The infamous, debilitating shriek rings out and the helpless creature stands frozen while they swarm forward and latch upon it’s soft, colourful hide, long proboscis unfurled.
As you slide along the walls of this maze of horrors, you see the soft glow of freedom through the fog; it beckons you forward, feeding renewed hope through your mind, but that pale, infant’s scream of terror is something not quickly forgotten.
You are free: go, escape!
There is another sound amid the fading noise, however. It is dulled within the chorus of the Screecher’s chaotic ambush, but it is there and it is laced with fear.
A young Cervavo has wandered far from its home in Solanis and the beautiful creature had become lost - very lost. It cries bitterly, hungry and alone, unable to find the end of the massive, confusing labyrinth and now it has attracted the attention of the predators. It is terrified and the scent is thick upon the air, only exciting the Screechers voracious appetites and fuelling their motivation.
The infamous, debilitating shriek rings out and the helpless creature stands frozen while they swarm forward and latch upon it’s soft, colourful hide, long proboscis unfurled.
As you slide along the walls of this maze of horrors, you see the soft glow of freedom through the fog; it beckons you forward, feeding renewed hope through your mind, but that pale, infant’s scream of terror is something not quickly forgotten.
the Rift