I watched as she left. Emotionless flames burned bright as her pale, ghost like form slipped into the mists that embraced the swamp she had chosen as the perfect place to deposit her unwanted spawn. She had never wanted me, that much was obvious. Rather than whispering sweet nothings and tales of what a great prince I would one day grow into, she stood there silent as I nursed, sulked in the shadows crying and cursing fate for leaving her with me.
Other children would probably be crying, screaming after their mother's to come back and love them and then when they kept walking the orphaned child would likely succumb to the whispers of the thick, unforgiving mud. But not I. At six months old I felt I was already much more jaded than even the most fierce of warriors. Midnight ears flicked back as the ghostly figure disappeared from my line of sight. She was gone, and I was here, left in a swamp where she hoped I would stumble into the murkiness and never return.
A snort escaped through flared, ink stained nostrils forcing the mist that wrapped around my small frame to swirl out in wild clouds before they settled down once again. Orange pools pulled away from the place they had last seen her, and instead drifted around my new surroundings. This was a dull place, full of danger, mist, the stink of mud and rotting foliage, the only sunlight that could creep through the thick canopy was a murky grey color as it tried to break through the fog. It was perfect.
My features twisted into the small ghost of a smile while inky limbs forced my presence forward, a thin line of blood crept its way down my chin when my lip cracked with the tightening of a smile. This strange land would do quite well, plenty of unfortunate situations to find myself in that would cause pain and discomfort to those who were normal, those who would roll their eyes in fear and lips to curl back in aggression over the oddity that is myself.
I kept walking until I found myself stuck. A thicket of life snatching thorns had been in my path, something I wasn't worried over since I could figure out someway to stop the bleeding later once I had found where I wanted to stop for the day. So, instead of finding my way around the blade like plants, my limbs kept walking. I could feel the thorns as they pressed into the thin flesh that covered my cannon bones, knowing only because my mother liked to spit the venom in my ears, that I was different and that this pressure should send me running in the other direction. But it didn't, I kept walking until the thorny vines wrapped themselves around all four limbs and I could no longer figure out how to get myself out of the mess I had found myself in.
"Shit..."
"speech"
ULYSSES
leave a beautiful carcass
@Fiona & @Israfel | 503 | both of you are more than welcome to reply, or just whoever wants to :3 |lunarblues
06-25-2018, 11:55 AM
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Sparrow [PM] Posts: 137 — Threads: 30 Signos: 1,020
“You know… Your legs would work better if you didn’t do that.”
Israfel’s words echoed easily through the natural silence of the marsh, carrying unhindered over the sound of buzzing insects and native creatures. She had been on patrol, again, sloshing her way through this horrendous, stinking blight of Terrastella when she had witnessed a young colt walk rather uncaringly straight into an intimidating thorn bush. Most sane souls would probably have waltzed their happy asses right around it, but for some reason this peculiar kid decided to just keep going, his scrawny little legs getting wrapped up with thorn-covered vines until he just couldn’t walk anymore. Weird.
The Sun Daughter stood a few paces away, her golden hooves and lean lower legs covered in shit-brown muck from the swamp water. It clung to her ivory hair and the long strands of her tail, but really? Israfel didn’t care too much about the mess. She found herself wading through this shit far too often anymore to let it really bother her all that much, but still… She didn’t like it. This place stank, and she just couldn’t see the appeal. Upon the Warden’s spine, Solaris sat perched, the Phoenix’s lavender eyes peering out at the dark colt with a judgmental, cold stare. The large bird of fire was not impressed by what she had witnessed.
’Is he daft?’
Unable to help it, Israfel snorted on a laugh, vermilion eyes rolling as she began to approach. “I don’t know. Maybe.” Making her way through the swamp water and ignoring the feeling of her hooves digging into the sodden earth and peat moss, she quickly went about finding a suitable spot of dry land that was much closer to the pinned youth. Gods, how old was this kid? He didn’t look very old. Six months? Less than a year, that was for sure. The Warden was far from maternal; she didn’t really care too much about kids in this second life she had been given, but she wasn’t so cruel that she would just leave him.
“Need some help there, squirt? Maybe next time you should go around the pointy bushes.”
Fiona had returned to Tinea at last, once more on the search for plants and flowers. Despite the fact that she was now Champion of Community, the caretaker in her could never be lost. The lavender painted girl thought that the two went hand in hand quite well. If she could not care for the members of Dusk then how could she represent them properly? She thought that perhaps she would just gather a few things and take them back to the court with her, and the small satchel she usually carried on these trips already had a few stems and leaves sticking out of it.
The swamp was not everyone’s favorite place. It smelled of wet, decaying plants and earth and there was almost always a constant buzzing in the air, which was damp and at times humid, but Fiona did not mind it. She liked the peace, and the swamp was the home of so many helpful plants, although she was sure it was home to many other less favorable varieties.
From nearby, voices filtered through the thick growth of the swamp and Fiona’s ears twisted on her head to catch the sound. Turning her head in the direction of it, it was easy to see a figure of ivory and gold standing among the trees and water. She wondered what on earth Israfel was doing, and who was she talking to? Curiosity quickly got the better of the girl and, making her way toward the other woman, she started to pick out the details of a young colt stuck among the brambles. 'Oh my' Fiona thought, picking up her pace slightly until she was standing at the Warden’s side with a questioning look on her face.
Her lavender eyes swept over the thorn bushes searching for a solution to this particular… prickly problem. Perhaps…? She reached out to the branches with her telekinesis, gently attempting to pull them away from his legs bit by bit. If they could be loosened, maybe the boy could get free of the thorns. Once he was out, she could apply a poultice to any serious cuts he may have sustained, perhaps pick out of a few stuck thorns, but she thought he would be alright.
