09-03-2016, 08:46 AM
now don’t you understand…that I’m never changing who I am?
Breaking the wind of flight was something that Reggie had never particularly been very good at, but now that she was forced to walk among the mere mortals as if she were—or had always been—one of them, she found it exhausting. Her feet hurt, there were spurs in her hooves, her muscles were cramping; essentially, the old hag was complaining.
The way old Irish hags do.
She was still constantly praying in Gaelic for the return of her magic, and still incredibly weak from the expulsion of the strength from her body, but as she moved through the foggy expanse, she was learning one very important thing—she could still hear the land speaking to her. The only problem was, she could not speak back. Her eyesight had returned, and in the distance she had seen a mountain cresting the sky as if it were some sort of pillar—a mecca for lost souls. She at the moment could care less about her soul—she knew she was a sinner and had given up her blood as a sacrifice for her arrogance and hubris.
She would continue to pray to her God and Mary, but she doubted at this point that even they cared about her. Such a sad state of affairs.
Reagan approached a big rock, and in her lack of hesitation for her age, she attempted to climb upon it… finding little footing a lot of embarrassment as her hind legs scrambled to make their way up… her bum literally flying in the air…
Reagan, the normally formidable mother-queen, was stuck.
The way old Irish hags do.
She was still constantly praying in Gaelic for the return of her magic, and still incredibly weak from the expulsion of the strength from her body, but as she moved through the foggy expanse, she was learning one very important thing—she could still hear the land speaking to her. The only problem was, she could not speak back. Her eyesight had returned, and in the distance she had seen a mountain cresting the sky as if it were some sort of pillar—a mecca for lost souls. She at the moment could care less about her soul—she knew she was a sinner and had given up her blood as a sacrifice for her arrogance and hubris.
She would continue to pray to her God and Mary, but she doubted at this point that even they cared about her. Such a sad state of affairs.
Reagan approached a big rock, and in her lack of hesitation for her age, she attempted to climb upon it… finding little footing a lot of embarrassment as her hind legs scrambled to make their way up… her bum literally flying in the air…
Reagan, the normally formidable mother-queen, was stuck.