08-30-2017, 04:52 PM
It is silent in the deeper, murkier parts of the forest. Even the crickets do not play their nightly melody among the dense parts of the underbrush, their voices hushed as the evening begins to grow richer and darker. The chill of autumn has scrubbed away the once bright green of the forest, bringing forth profound colors of maroon and brown, with streaks of brilliant gold and orange thrown in. A mist, lazy and unmoving, hangs near the trunks of the towering pines, creating a scene that is both beautiful and haunting. Beneath the thick cloak of dried, brittle vines and the harboring cloud of mist, shrouded beneath the heightening obscurity of nightfall, the scattered boulders and rocks give way to a great, yawning blackness. The cavern is small, hidden by the thick bracken and foliage that surrounds it. A rattling sigh can be heard as Balto exhales, his breath clouding before him as it leaves the blackness of his lips. He lumbers forth, following obediently the only companion he has ever remembered – Faulkor had brought him into the world of darkness before, only Faulkor could do it again. Their hooves are hollow as the sound reverberates from somewhere deep within the caverns’ stone cage. His hooves click against the smooth, damp stone beneath him, accompanied by the soothing sound of water dripping rhythmically. Drip, drop. Drip, drop. He lingers within the protection of coiled darkness that surrounds him, his figure barely traceable within the shadows that soothingly press against his blue mottled skin – but he is there. As they settle within their darkening world, his searing blue gaze attempts to stare out into the world beyond, though his pupils do not allow him to see much. Even within the night sky and the brush of dawn on the horizon, the world outside of the cave it is still too bright, and he is far too vulnerable to look any longer. A breeze alights against his face, the cold and frigid air entering their dark tomb and running quiet, icy fingers through the tangled mass of Balto’s thick mane and tail. He closes his eyes and inhales deeply, the scent of the forest and crisp, outside air filling him. Memories flood him, distant and blurred ones, of a forest – they’re almost unfamiliar in his mind, like they were someone else’s memories all together. He attempts desperately to place the distorted faces that flash in his mind, but the details are all too hazy. Wolves, a lake, a pale golden face. But all he knows is the darkness, is the caves. His memories fall away as the breeze dies. He is met with the darkness once again, crooning shadows that are like family to him, twisting and turning lovingly between his legs with soothing strokes, coaxing him to stay. He wonders what the sun feels like. What of the ocean’s salty spray? The stinging rain of a thunderstorm? It’s been so long… His distant gaze clicks back into focus, a single ear flipping backwards to listen to the stirrings of the one beside him. The black stallion’s voice is raspy and rattling as it leaves his throat, though to others the statement may have been unclear, Balto understands. He snorts, vapor billowing around his face as he finally turns his gaze slowly to the shadow that lingers beside him. “And so you shall.” The magic that groans beneath the lands they have stumbled upon is unmistakable. It brings a familiarity over the blue roan stallion that he has not felt in nearly a decade. The magic stirs and boils, fervent in its prowess. His bones ache for it. “Tell me what to do.” once the king of beasts but now they feast on thoughts beneath his vacant crown. |
@[Faulkor]