Fang
“Req…Requiem?”
Her name is a rasping gasp on his lips, a choking sigh forced out by lungs that still grapple for breath. His eyes suddenly open, wide and panicked beneath the pain and exhaustion that weigh on his body, compressing over his aching muscles like a heavy blanket, pressing his cheek into the damp grass as he lies on the ground. The moonlight rims his nostrils as they strain with each breath—his heart continues to hammer against his ribs, charged by the remnants of adrenaline that fade slowly, slowly from his veins.
Fang remembers running. A frantic, terrifying race for their lives, fleeing from shadowy claws and hungry teeth that sought to steal the life from their bodies for nothing more than the thrill of the sport.
With their haunting shrieks echoing in his ears, the stallion forces himself up from the grass, grunting with the effort of gathering his long legs beneath him. He stumbles once, leather wings reaching out from his sides to steady himself, before he is able to stand again. So tired, his mind cries, so sore. Blinking, Fang glances down at his legs, noticing the collection of lacerations that pepper his shoulders and knees. Most are smeared with dried blood and have already begun scabbing over, though there are some that have reopened—he watches as a red bead of blood oozes slowly down his knee before it falls unceremoniously to the ground. Flesh wounds, Fang decides, and steels himself to lift his gaze to his surroundings.
He hadn’t expected to recognize this place, but the reality of being faced with this foreign world is more jarring than he anticipated. Memories are distorted, violent, and painful as they come to him—they had gotten separated. Where is she?
Still breathing heavily, his ember eyes are cast anxiously around, hoping to catch a glimpse of ivory or gold beneath the stars, wishing more than anything to see her ruby eyes sparkling back at him. Staggering forward a step, he whickers into the night, every part of him reaching out for her. “Requiem!” He cries, the ghost of old wounds haunting his lungs with the effort of his call—but his voice is hoarse, and easily broken over the surface of the water. Her name is quickly lost to the darkness.
ooc; <333
tag; @Requiem
“…”
Her name is a rasping gasp on his lips, a choking sigh forced out by lungs that still grapple for breath. His eyes suddenly open, wide and panicked beneath the pain and exhaustion that weigh on his body, compressing over his aching muscles like a heavy blanket, pressing his cheek into the damp grass as he lies on the ground. The moonlight rims his nostrils as they strain with each breath—his heart continues to hammer against his ribs, charged by the remnants of adrenaline that fade slowly, slowly from his veins.
Fang remembers running. A frantic, terrifying race for their lives, fleeing from shadowy claws and hungry teeth that sought to steal the life from their bodies for nothing more than the thrill of the sport.
With their haunting shrieks echoing in his ears, the stallion forces himself up from the grass, grunting with the effort of gathering his long legs beneath him. He stumbles once, leather wings reaching out from his sides to steady himself, before he is able to stand again. So tired, his mind cries, so sore. Blinking, Fang glances down at his legs, noticing the collection of lacerations that pepper his shoulders and knees. Most are smeared with dried blood and have already begun scabbing over, though there are some that have reopened—he watches as a red bead of blood oozes slowly down his knee before it falls unceremoniously to the ground. Flesh wounds, Fang decides, and steels himself to lift his gaze to his surroundings.
He hadn’t expected to recognize this place, but the reality of being faced with this foreign world is more jarring than he anticipated. Memories are distorted, violent, and painful as they come to him—they had gotten separated. Where is she?
Still breathing heavily, his ember eyes are cast anxiously around, hoping to catch a glimpse of ivory or gold beneath the stars, wishing more than anything to see her ruby eyes sparkling back at him. Staggering forward a step, he whickers into the night, every part of him reaching out for her. “Requiem!” He cries, the ghost of old wounds haunting his lungs with the effort of his call—but his voice is hoarse, and easily broken over the surface of the water. Her name is quickly lost to the darkness.
ooc; <333
tag; @
“…”
Lost boys like me
are free.
are free.
please tag Fang in all replies; magic and force are permitted
