Once upon a time, Kassandra lived in an ivory tower. Her windows bore bars and she could just barely peek her head out to look down at all the creatures toiling away below, smaller than insects from her high vantage point. If not for being a prisoner, and so tormented by her captors, her nightmarish visions, and her loneliness all at once, she may have felt powerful. In an unfortunate turn of events, for all her time spent alone, Kass never really did develop a skill for imagination; she knew too little of the world to enjoy fantasy, and, instead, had a craving for reality, for truth, and discovery, and the concrete.
She wonders now as she looks up at the glaring sun, Silverite eyes squinting against the spear-like beams which come hurtling downwards, if perhaps there was someone, or something, just like her, entombed in the golden heat. Maybe there was a person locked in their gilded tower staring down at them and thinking of their smallness; maybe, unlike Kassandra, this entity did feel the power from their position above what seemed to be all creation. Maybe that was why they suspended the sun in the sky as they did. Or maybe they, too, were a prisoner, deprived of the touch of the outside world, and desired to know what was real, and true, and locking the glorious orb in position was their way of shining light on things to discover the answers to their needling questions.
Something brushes against her hocks and for a moment, in her exhausted state, Kass thinks it's Oculos, rolling over on his back to itch himself in the sand; it is only when the sensations continue that she looks down and realizes it is the sand. It is shifting and forming as though it is being walked across by an equine, but of its own accord. Kass stretches out her neck and a swirl of golden dust stretches up in turn and brushes against her muzzle, causing her to sneeze.
She turns to look at Oculos, who has come up alongside her. He sits, tight on his hindquarters, long tail wrapped around his paws, ears perked in curiosity (one only lifts halfway and flops over at the tip, as always). A look passes between them, a mental shrug understandable only by each other. Blinking through apprehension and sleep deprivation, Kassandra lumbers forward, following the path which is set before her.
The hoofprints lead her on a tricky road through dense underbrush and low-hanging vines; though, to Kassandra, who has already had a difficult time passing through the foliage, it is just another day in the jungle. By the time she wedges herself underneath the thick tendrils and powers through the almost impenetrable greenery, she is twice as tired as she was at the start, covered in verdant growth seemingly from ear-tip to tail, and her star-covered pelt is marred by stinging, red scratches.
At first, she does not recognize the relic and stares at it with a squinty, worn-out curiosity. She has the vague conception of others gathering around her but pays them no mind as she continues to try and puzzle out what this mysterious thing she discovered might be. Its beauty is breathtaking, and she wants little more than to move forward and touch it; others have already moved forward. She recognizes August, who had the poor luck of stumbling over her mid-fit deep in the heart of the forest; the other two are strange and fantastic, with fiery weapons and bright golden marking laced into their pelts. Someone nearby poses the question they must all be thinking, in some version of another, but Kass is too tired to answer.
Something is missing within her, she realizes; the golden-striped mare, the mare with the flaming ax, even August, all have some sort of nigh-deranged, hungry look in their eyes. Kassandra does not feel the same. She is tired. She is hot. She wants to go home. She wants to sleep under the stars and feel the coolness of night. She feels long, lonely, and empty. And so, building within her, instead of the deep desire to obtain, is a rage, a diamond-white rage built through immense pressure and heat. She wants nothing more than to smash the idol and return everything to normal.
Despite her weariness, however, Kass is not quite so large a fool. She exhales heavily through her nostrils and waits, perched on the same nervous edge as those around her.
ooc // kass is staying
She wonders now as she looks up at the glaring sun, Silverite eyes squinting against the spear-like beams which come hurtling downwards, if perhaps there was someone, or something, just like her, entombed in the golden heat. Maybe there was a person locked in their gilded tower staring down at them and thinking of their smallness; maybe, unlike Kassandra, this entity did feel the power from their position above what seemed to be all creation. Maybe that was why they suspended the sun in the sky as they did. Or maybe they, too, were a prisoner, deprived of the touch of the outside world, and desired to know what was real, and true, and locking the glorious orb in position was their way of shining light on things to discover the answers to their needling questions.
Something brushes against her hocks and for a moment, in her exhausted state, Kass thinks it's Oculos, rolling over on his back to itch himself in the sand; it is only when the sensations continue that she looks down and realizes it is the sand. It is shifting and forming as though it is being walked across by an equine, but of its own accord. Kass stretches out her neck and a swirl of golden dust stretches up in turn and brushes against her muzzle, causing her to sneeze.
She turns to look at Oculos, who has come up alongside her. He sits, tight on his hindquarters, long tail wrapped around his paws, ears perked in curiosity (one only lifts halfway and flops over at the tip, as always). A look passes between them, a mental shrug understandable only by each other. Blinking through apprehension and sleep deprivation, Kassandra lumbers forward, following the path which is set before her.
The hoofprints lead her on a tricky road through dense underbrush and low-hanging vines; though, to Kassandra, who has already had a difficult time passing through the foliage, it is just another day in the jungle. By the time she wedges herself underneath the thick tendrils and powers through the almost impenetrable greenery, she is twice as tired as she was at the start, covered in verdant growth seemingly from ear-tip to tail, and her star-covered pelt is marred by stinging, red scratches.
At first, she does not recognize the relic and stares at it with a squinty, worn-out curiosity. She has the vague conception of others gathering around her but pays them no mind as she continues to try and puzzle out what this mysterious thing she discovered might be. Its beauty is breathtaking, and she wants little more than to move forward and touch it; others have already moved forward. She recognizes August, who had the poor luck of stumbling over her mid-fit deep in the heart of the forest; the other two are strange and fantastic, with fiery weapons and bright golden marking laced into their pelts. Someone nearby poses the question they must all be thinking, in some version of another, but Kass is too tired to answer.
Something is missing within her, she realizes; the golden-striped mare, the mare with the flaming ax, even August, all have some sort of nigh-deranged, hungry look in their eyes. Kassandra does not feel the same. She is tired. She is hot. She wants to go home. She wants to sleep under the stars and feel the coolness of night. She feels long, lonely, and empty. And so, building within her, instead of the deep desire to obtain, is a rage, a diamond-white rage built through immense pressure and heat. She wants nothing more than to smash the idol and return everything to normal.
Despite her weariness, however, Kass is not quite so large a fool. She exhales heavily through her nostrils and waits, perched on the same nervous edge as those around her.
ooc // kass is staying
STAFF EDIT***
@kassandra has rolled a 4! She has been awarded +250 signos.
