P a n g a e a
broken your servant I kneel
it seems what's left of my human side
is slowly changing in me
The climb thus far hadn't been too hard, even as she trailed behind. However, she knew enough about mountains to know that the rolling hills and the initial climb up never correctly portrayed how bad it could really be. Still, it was odd how . . . how peaceful it felt. A peace that she couldn't deny worried her to be a false pretense. No one was ever this . . . this nice. Gareth glanced back at her, even as he moved another batch of sharp rocks out of her way, and she tilted her head quietly, "Oh." Was her very eloquent reply, before she glanced away, not wanting to trust what those eyes were trying to portray. She did have to acknowledge the concern for her, even as she quickly shook her head, "No, it's alright; I am fine. It's nothing I haven't had to live through before. I am no stranger to pain." If he looked close enough, he'd likely believe it. Scars that dapple and blend into the ivory of her appaloosa markings. The warping on her pebbled hide from where lacerations had healed. The thick and heavy jagged scar on the side of her neck, from where that Spinosaurus had tried to take her head off. From where her brother had sacrificed his own life to let her get out. She'd almost died that time, too, when humidity had flared infection quickly. She didn't respond to his comment of it not being a trouble, but that was more because his following words had startled her.
Startled her enough that she'd paused, staring at him midstep, head tilting to the side. Walk . . . with him. The broad, inviting smile. The chuckle rumbled through his chest as he asked her to indulge him. Her stomach turned slightly, a fluttering feeling at the look he offered her. Why was her stomach fluttering? Had he poisoned the food he had hunted for her? Was this a prolonged plot to kill her? However, she closed the distance, turning her gaze from him, but stepping up even as he slowed down so she could walk at his side. "Just so we can converse easier." She agreed, wondering if whatever poison was in the food was making her overheat because her face felt enflamed. What was he doing to her? Would this be how she died?
He distracted her by an unfamiliar word. No, not just a word, it was a title. Like Mother, Father, Brother, Sister, Mate . . . Bonded. She listened quietly, her gaze cutting to him at the pause before mentioning a childhood friend, her gaze watching him, wondering what he wasn't saying about that. Her ears did perk a little about the odd mushroom, but to imagine that there were traps out there designed to capture other animals was odd, "The people here trap to hunt animals? Doesn't that deny the prey the honorable death, the chance to overpower and get away? Seems like a cheat to the system." She stated quietly, "Even an ambush isn't so . . . cheaty. I'd have died long ago if they had traps such as that where I come from." She could name a dozen or so species who would have utilized them with ease.
He did speak about freeing the elk, taking care of him, and a connection being forged. Not like the pack bond, though. This was . . . something more. Her expression was puzzled, but quizzical, her eyes now locked onto him, engrossed in the tale he was telling. It was in this rare moment her guard shifted, was let down a little, ears perked, eyes eager for what else she could learn about this odd phenomenon that was almost as peculiar as the magic she'd seen in this world. "So . . . this bonded thing, can happen between any species? Or is it limited to a . . . horse, and non-horse?" She asked, puzzled, "I thought you had formed a pack with the Elk, with Noor, but . . . this is vastly different." And she was jealous of it.
To imagine, never having to be alone. To always have someone there. "I can't imagine . . . what it must be like. To have someone there like that. To not have to feel alone ever again." She walked a little more comfortable, some space still given between them, even as she walked by his side, rather than behind, being careful to preserve as much of her energy as possible, to ignore the throbs and aches from her hind legs. She's distracted from the pain at his comment of having thought he was dreaming or hallucinating, her muzzle twitching into an amused smile, a startled laugh being pulled out of her, "I would imagine that would be terribly alarming if you were not expecting it." She agreed softly. When was the last time he had laughed. So simply, without sarcasm coloring the sound? She briefly wonders if anyone would ever reimenance about her with the same fondness Gareth used to speak of Noor.
They turn around a bend, and she startles by the slight narrowing of the path, even as she steps to the side once or twice (closer to him) to avoid her hair being caught up by branches. Her wings, despite being pulled against her sides briefly brush against his side, and she holds them tighter, the thumb claw tucking in to make sure she doesn't accidentally stab or scratch him, "Oh. Sorry." The apology was soft, and there was a brief return of that shy, soft smile. "I sometimes forget my wings." It was the better way of saying she had developed a habit of having them ready for take off, to get out of danger (or a hungry mouth). She listens again when he speaks of others having the companions and the struggles to find them. He mentioned his grandmother again. And she glanced at him curiously, before he shook his head, "No . . .it's alright. I don't mind listening to you talk." She started to assure before he turned those eyes back onto her, searching her face. The warmth fluttered around her belly again and she dropped that gaze, before she spoke quietly.
"You speak of your grandmother with such fondness." She started, her words almost hesitant, "Someone who had such a profound impact on your life." Her muzzle softened. Those harsh lines gentled with a smile, "She sounds like the sort of individual my brother would have been drawn to. He was sickly as a hatchling. I think mother and father abandoned us with concern id share the sickness. Proved them wrong. But even with hardships, Jurassic was soft. He helped those he came across, saw the best in others. It was a full time job keeping him alive." Her smile fell, as she remembered his loving smile when he pushed her away from the Spinosaur, let those jaws snap up around him.
She was startled to feel the wetness at her eyes and she quickly turned her head, her ears pinning into her curly cream hair, "A part of me is jealous. Of you, of the rest that live in this world. Carefree. Unafraid. Together. Even the magic here seems kind. The only magic I ever experienced back at home led me to that . . . To that place." The walls, the loss of identity. Starving her, experimenting with her abilities, her strength. The cold attention, cruel taunts. She takes a step closer to Gareth, the only warmth she had felt in such a long time, not even realizing she'd moved. "Will you . . . Tell me more. About her, about your grandmother?" Her honey eyes turn back towards him, cautious, uncertain, but willing to listen and to learn about this world he lived in. To learn about him.
"Speech"
Thoughts
@Gareth
Notes: I'm so excited.
when suddenly it changes
violently it changes
there is no turning back now
you've woken up the demon in me
