An End
Each of the horses bring with them another revelation of the first path. At first it's a cloud, shifting dusky pink and orange. The cloud swallows up the sun and leaves a strange coolness behind to dapple their skin. Another joins and all the shadows at their hooves thicken and lengthen until their climbing up the walls like black, leaves of ivy.
Something looks almost alive in those shadows. When the dusky cloud shifts away from the glowing, painted sun there are two flowers blooming in each of the shadows like pairs of eyes made of pollen and silk and life. There are four shadows, one for each of the mortals that travels the path of dawn.
The last two bring with them a touch of decay. The flowers around the leggy, god-like mare, start to wilt and wither. The edges of each petal turns brown and turns to ash like all of this world if a trick of paper and a fire has started to smolder. The mare's eyes too fester in that decay, and all her pastel tones turn to rust.
And when she laughs it's a strange sound, like broken harp strings shivering between her teeth. It's easy to think that her tongue is no tongue at all but a cracked bell (chiming the witching hour inside her jawbones). “Of course you will never see me again,” She says to Mateo, because of course she is a god-like mare and he nothing more than a simple, black pegasus.
To the others she only smiles. The look reaches her eyes and it seems almost as if her look is too full of teeth to be anything kind. “I am the end.” Her voice rings out and the flowers and the shadows recede back to nothing but plain hedge. Even the canvas above their head dims and fades to something sheer instead of golden.
As she steps from her wilted flowers and begins to dissolve back into the bushes it's clear to see that there really was nothing behind her but a green, living wall.
@Mateo @Katniss @Apolonia @El Toro
Note: This path ended, but I've sent 50 signos to each participant. A reply to this before 12/28 will also earn another 50.
Something looks almost alive in those shadows. When the dusky cloud shifts away from the glowing, painted sun there are two flowers blooming in each of the shadows like pairs of eyes made of pollen and silk and life. There are four shadows, one for each of the mortals that travels the path of dawn.
The last two bring with them a touch of decay. The flowers around the leggy, god-like mare, start to wilt and wither. The edges of each petal turns brown and turns to ash like all of this world if a trick of paper and a fire has started to smolder. The mare's eyes too fester in that decay, and all her pastel tones turn to rust.
And when she laughs it's a strange sound, like broken harp strings shivering between her teeth. It's easy to think that her tongue is no tongue at all but a cracked bell (chiming the witching hour inside her jawbones). “Of course you will never see me again,” She says to Mateo, because of course she is a god-like mare and he nothing more than a simple, black pegasus.
To the others she only smiles. The look reaches her eyes and it seems almost as if her look is too full of teeth to be anything kind. “I am the end.” Her voice rings out and the flowers and the shadows recede back to nothing but plain hedge. Even the canvas above their head dims and fades to something sheer instead of golden.
As she steps from her wilted flowers and begins to dissolve back into the bushes it's clear to see that there really was nothing behind her but a green, living wall.
@Mateo @
Note: This path ended, but I've sent 50 signos to each participant. A reply to this before 12/28 will also earn another 50.
