night
comes
Ripping, howling, the sky opens up. A yawning black mouth with shadowing teeth that close around the figure highlighted against the silvery moon. Diaval does not flee, even as he feels the tongues of magic grip his ankles, the breath of fate hot on his heels. The world below, with its flickering lantern light and endless forests, is obscured by the darkness that surrounds him.
Screwing his eyes shut tightly, the stallion quells the nausea in his gut as he feels himself being hauled from one dimension to another. Portal travel was not something that got easier the more times one experienced it. But Diaval was glad to be able to say he no longer wretched and hurled when he landed in a new world- even if his stomach still violently rebelled and his heart flung itself desperately into his mouth.
The familiar sensation of falling took a hold and for a moment the winged steed enjoyed the sensation. Until he opened his eyes and realised he was indeed falling. A hoarse cry left his dark lips as Diaval threw his wings open. The ground hurtled up toward him, dizzyingly fast. Too fast. It was too late. In a last ditch effort, the black steed twists his body and curls his head into himself. The inevitable bone-shattering thud sends pain erupting through his body and for a time the world goes black.
Pain, blinding pain, is the first thing Diaval becomes aware of as he is drawn into consciousness like poison from a wound. The world is still blessedly doused in darkness, stars still gleam overhead, a different set to the ones his closed his eyes on earlier. Earlier? He cannot be sure how long ago it was that he jumped worlds, that he crashed her. Minutes, hours, days. The passage of time had eluded him in his pain-ridden slumber. He hopes no one witnessed a dark form spat from a portal and hurled across the sky; he hopes no one saw his quick descent to meet the unforgiving ground. But what is hope in a world such as this. Unfurling his wings with a grimace, the steed rights himself and allows his eyes to become accustomed to the darkness. A lake sits silent and shadowy off to his left, the moon reflected in its calm depths. Despite the cold, the stallion rises upon unsteady hooves and heads for the blessed liquid, allowing the freezing temperature to block out the pain.
