The heat was stifling at best and suffocating at worst. The sun beat the expanses of solid rock mercilessly, resonating the heat tenfold. And it was among this heat haze that it took place. The walls of a particularly unimpressive area of stone vibrated with the intensity of electricity, pieces of gravel seemingly ripping apart from one another..
But there was no lighting or thunder storm in sight, no hurricane nor tornado.
Suddenly, a sharp tear did form - warping the pieces of slate - edges buzzing with a static, blinding light. The fissure continued to expand, pulling sharply upwards towards the clifftop. Ripped unceremoniously from their resting places, large stones and boulders plummeted towards the ground, splintering upon impact. The expanse was without shadows and without light, as seemingly endless as it was vast. Somehow, it existed as it didn't; and all at once, it spit out its cargo with vehement contempt.
Hurled from one continent to the other in the blink of an eye, Torstein was spit from the fissure and skidded twenty some-odd feet in the soft but scorching sand, shoulder first. The heat did nothing to ease the massive ache his body felt, from not only the impact but the transport itself.. being in whatever that was felt like having a hundred rusty fish hooks sunk into his skin, their lines pulling them in every which direction.
For a few moments, the Beast sat there, crumpled into the ground. He questioned if he was even breathing, but then remembered how heavily his sides were heaving, how flared his nostrils were and hot the breathe that escaped from them was. His chest was on fire, the muscles wrought with pain - but they did the job. The spines enclosing his heart stayed taught, firmly shielding the delicate organ from impact. Not even a speck of sand was able to penetrate through the jagged expanse of fang-like spines.
Everywhere else was not so lucky. He could smell the aroma of clay and dust in his nostrils, taste the grit of sand in his mouth, jesus he could even feel it between his teeth...
Slowly, he opened his eyes, a groan slipping past his lips. He lifted his head from the earth, eyes swimming for a brief moment. Gaze wandered around the expanse of dry dirt and shrubs that surrounded him - wandered up the canyon walls, drifted across the expanse of desert and shrubland. This was not a land he was familiar with... nor was it even a land that surrounded Stolthet, as he knew them all too.
Bewildered, Torstein slowly regained his footing - and slow it was, as his limbs, aching and oh so sore, strained to lift his massive frame that stood at a horrifying eleven feet tall at the tips of his impressive horns. Painstakingly, he shook the sand from his body and scraped his colossal, weathered hooves in the dust. For a moment, he was quiet as he scoured the landscape.
"Where the fuck am I?" Muttered to no one, in a setting that might as well be the valley of death.
Action. Thoughts. "Speech."
Everyone's welcome!
↤ Reference Image - - chest cavity: CLOSED - - 513 words - - code Ⓒ inkbone ↦
[ please tag @Torstein in all replies ]
I have three eyes
TWO TO LOOK ONE TO SEE
