The black tears stain his smooth, pale face as the old marble threatens every day to crumble him into nothing more than ruble of the long dead...but is purpose, his essence, his very being continues to keep the hollow chest pulsating with forbidden magics.
Softly, his joints grind against one another in the soft way one rubs a thumb into the groove of a worry stone. The sound of his hooves ricochet against shells and stone alike as he treats them, the black eyes blindly turned up an away.
Sebastian feels the ache of his life. It ripples in his bloodless veins and beats in time like any other heart. He is a burden to most and does not know why he has chose to seek the sea...could he even feel the breeze here...was the ocean of salt like the dead had murmured long ago? Black blind eyes blink as he considers it all for a moment then continues to walk on.
The sound of waves are the indication he is close. It’s warm here in the open grounds yet his skin stays cool and smooth to the touch. Some voice lift and fall like the white crested foam waters and Sebastian tilts his heavy head slightly. Were still voices of the dead? Those drowned or murdered by faults of their own? He sighs slightly that is resonance of windfall in naked trees.
Who would honestly care to keep company with a blind, marbled stallion who looked terribly out of place on a sea side shore?
