And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand One hoof in front of the other. One step turns into two, two turns into three. Three into four. Four into five. On and on, dragging his shuddering bulk across the picturesque landscape, a dark, unsightly mar against something so beautiful. Everything ached. His shoulders felt raw and disjointed, his legs wobbling and unsteady. Every step came with a grunt of pain from battered, weary lungs, a sharp exhale of breath, a physical manifestation of his everlasting exhaustion and sickness. He just wanted to lay down, to allow his tired legs to give out and crumple to the earth, splay out and wait for Death to take him like it had taken so many of his loved ones... Something, however, kept him from doing just that. The monochromatic overo pressed on, his gait uneven and bumbling, tripping over earth and grass alike. Honey-brown eyes roamed the horizon, watching, praying to dead Gods and ancestors alike for deliverance, for some kind of sign that all was not lost. A sign that he was alive, that he wasn't dead and that this wasn't heaven. Zola... Zola please. Please don't leave me. Don't leave me alone in this place. What came, however, was far sweeter than any kiss of life, any embrace of deliverance. An angel beckoned in his ear, calling his name, a desperate, relieved cry of 'Apollo! Apollo!' No. Not an angel... Slowly the Merciful lifted his head, half-lidded honey-brown eyes regarding the dark shape in the distance as it approached. Recognition cleared his gaze, brightening soulful eyes. Was it the fever? Was it the sickness? He could taste it, the sick ichor on his tongue that came with fever, the heaviness in his limbs, the delirious visions that danced in his eyes because that could not be Ktulu it couldn't it most definitely could not be her. "Ktu...?" The dark lady's name came from trembling lips, croaked on a whisper, on a prayer. He was lost amidst an abyss of darkness, and she, his light. His salvation. Even if she was not truly there, even if she was an illusion brought on by illness, simply seeing her, even if it would be his last sight before death took him, would be far better than any heaven the Gods could have planned. She drew closer at a brisk pace, all mighty raven black and ivory silk, disheveled and in disarray. Not thinking, his mind fueled by desperation, by the crude break of his connection with Zola and the sickness that lingered from passing through the Portal, Apollo stretched out his neck, reaching out to the Constrictor to brush his muzzle against her skin the moment that she was close enough. He sighed, her familiar scent filling his nose, calming him, chasing away his fear and his panic, soothing his turmoil like a balm. "Ktulu, you... You're here?" She was far too solid to be an illusion. Ktulu was too real beneath his touch, dark lips brushing at her skin wherever she would allow, breathing in deeply, surrounding himself with her, and relief blossomed in his breast. "You're really here? I thought... I thought I had lost you, too. You're here. You're here." The Merciful looked around after a moment used to calm himself, to clear his mind to the best of his ability, desperately searching for the familiar brown grizzly that was always in Ktulu's company. Eytan was nowhere to be seen, just like Zola, and his stomach churned and his heart clenched painfully. "Where's Eytan?" Somehow they had surved Kaos' tyrannical overthrow, but wherever they were, it seemed no one else had made it. When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am |
@Ktulu
