THE BLACK DOE
the infinite intimacy of her rage
It was another night by which she had found herself sleepless and wanting. Wanting for what? She can never quite put her hoof on it; it is a feeling she's all too accustomed to, so she accepts it. She falls into the rhythmic step of her hooves against the dirt of the plains, her head turned heavenward, to the sky and all its stars. To the blackness between them.
And she allows her mind to wander, as it usually does with her own wandering self. Allows her legs to carry her wherever.
Drifting along the nightscape, she finds it's sometimes quite hard to tell the differences between the earthen floor and the night sky itself. Each cloaked in darkness, belit only by the twinkling stars, the soft illuminated moon, and different only by the way she can feel herself hit the hard floor with each step. No matter how much she feels her mind whirling, wandering, flying, escaping. If only it were that easy.
She wonders how she had found herself here, and what she was doing here at all. What was she doing not in her bed? Trying to find something unfindable, longing for something she doesn't know. She guesses - solidity? A direction? A purpose? But all these are all so unreachable. And then there's the slightest tinge of iron that fills her nose, a memory from the deepest recesses of her mind, inching its way through the cracks in her facade and closer to the forefront of her attention. It's a foreboding feeling, a feeling that causes anxiety to begin prickling at her spine. Up, up, over her shoulders, even though she has no idea what prompted this; what she was anxious about, what she wanted to suddenly run from.
Her steps stop abruptly, and just as the superficial blood she smells is getting stronger, a thick twig snaps under something heavy near her. Suddenly she is wrenched far away from that uneasy feeling but into a fear of what was now physically around her. She is no longer among blood, nor is she drifting with the night. She is planted firmly on earth, and she looks quiet and acutely through the darkness that surrounds her, spooked by her own mind and the fact she had let her defenses down so much that she doesn't even know what, or who, might be so close to her now.
"...Don't hide." The words cut the silence after the snap, and it's nearly impossible to tell if she's speaking to the unknown stranger near her or herself as her heart beats like a bird frantically trying to escape her chest.
࿑
Speech.
@Theron
ooc
<3
And she allows her mind to wander, as it usually does with her own wandering self. Allows her legs to carry her wherever.
Drifting along the nightscape, she finds it's sometimes quite hard to tell the differences between the earthen floor and the night sky itself. Each cloaked in darkness, belit only by the twinkling stars, the soft illuminated moon, and different only by the way she can feel herself hit the hard floor with each step. No matter how much she feels her mind whirling, wandering, flying, escaping. If only it were that easy.
She wonders how she had found herself here, and what she was doing here at all. What was she doing not in her bed? Trying to find something unfindable, longing for something she doesn't know. She guesses - solidity? A direction? A purpose? But all these are all so unreachable. And then there's the slightest tinge of iron that fills her nose, a memory from the deepest recesses of her mind, inching its way through the cracks in her facade and closer to the forefront of her attention. It's a foreboding feeling, a feeling that causes anxiety to begin prickling at her spine. Up, up, over her shoulders, even though she has no idea what prompted this; what she was anxious about, what she wanted to suddenly run from.
Her steps stop abruptly, and just as the superficial blood she smells is getting stronger, a thick twig snaps under something heavy near her. Suddenly she is wrenched far away from that uneasy feeling but into a fear of what was now physically around her. She is no longer among blood, nor is she drifting with the night. She is planted firmly on earth, and she looks quiet and acutely through the darkness that surrounds her, spooked by her own mind and the fact she had let her defenses down so much that she doesn't even know what, or who, might be so close to her now.
"...Don't hide." The words cut the silence after the snap, and it's nearly impossible to tell if she's speaking to the unknown stranger near her or herself as her heart beats like a bird frantically trying to escape her chest.
Speech.
@Theron
ooc
<3
