She dreamed of death, of a dark voice commanding them all to kill. And then her dream dragged her deeper, familiar faces wrapping around her and holding her close, protecting her from the dark god’s call and the voice in her head that demanded she obey. Those faces couldn’t protect the whole world, but they held onto her and kept her as safe as they could manage.
Until the world shook and rumbled and rearranged itself, and Xero jerked awake, shaking and looking around in wide-eyed panic as her nightmare refused to fade. She huddled in a little ball, curled up tight with her eyes squeezed shut until the new land settled into its new shape, trying to understand what was happening. As long as she could remember, nothing like this had ever, ever happened before! Of course, that maybe wasn’t so very long, but still. It was scary, and she was little and all on her own.
The ground calmed, and a voice sounded in her head telling her where she could go to get to safety. But Xero wasn’t close to any of those places, not the big Mountain or the pompoms place or the cove or the icy place or nothing. She’d lost her new friend Lee before she could go looking for the Jungle together, and none of those places sounded like a jungle neither.
Maybe she wouldna been so scared except everybody around was panicking, freaking out and scurrying off toward safety. “Escuse me,” she said softly to one wide-eyed refugee dashing past, “could you help--” But the stranger didn’t stop to listen. “Hello?” she tried again with the next person she saw, “I need--” But the mare kept right on running past, leaving poor little Xero all alone still and with nobody to help her find her way.
Her head drooped, and she sighed a sad little sigh that went all the way down to her bones. “I need some help, though,” she said sadly to nobody at all.
11-01-2018, 12:49 AM
(This post was last modified: 11-01-2018, 12:52 AM by Cress.)
He died.
Despite all they did to help, he died anyways.
Cress is violently ill as she stumbles away from Leliana, from Pangea, from the attackers and the defenders. She flees from the poisoned land but it is too late anyways; the sickness is already within her bones. She should have never gone to Pangea, but she knew that she had to help in any way that she could—if Carnage was commanding all of Beqanna to kill someone, there was no way that he was guilty. It was just the Dark God scheming, trying to create more death and destruction than he already had in his infinite years.
The world seems as if it is spinning when she finally halts her slow pace, but perhaps that is just the fever coursing through her veins. She had not been moving very quickly but already she finds herself within the Forest, and she coughs as she tries to catch her breath. The sickness has gotten ahold of her very quickly indeed and she trips as she tries to take another step, too exhausted from trying to save Rhonen to even think to use her healing to try and halt the progression of the virus—the plague. Not that it would do any good anyways.
There are others, thundering past, trying to reach the sanctuary lands before it is too late—before they contract the illness, too. She watches them flee, wanting to scream to them to stay away, but she is so tired. She thinks about settling down for a nap, but she hears a voice, calling to those that are fleeing. Cress has been fleeing for so much of her life, but this time she makes a different choice: to search out instead of running away.
She finds the tovero girl easily enough—it is not so hard, as her painted coloring and yellow forelock stand out amid the trees. She does not recognize her—she has no reason to, as her sire never knew his father who is also the father to the girl in front of her—but she looks so sad that Cress cannot help but to approach. “I can help you,” she says, pausing to cough. “Be careful though, I don’t know if my illness is contagious. I have healing, but...” Her voice trails off as she takes a step back, not wanting to innocently infect the other.
“I’m Cress,” she adds, turning her head to cough again. “Are you alright?”
By request, rolled for plague for @[Xero].
Xero is safe (rolled a 2).
Everybody was way too scared to hear her, rushing past Xero in a panic and taking no time to listen to a stray, small voice in the chaos. Just as she was giving up on anybody stopping to help one poor little lost girl in the midst of the world basically ending, a soft voice rasped, “I can help you.”
She peeked up at the stranger, soft pale gold eyes shining with unshed tears. Ohhh. There was something familiar in the shape of her, in the golden color of her coat, but Xero couldn’t place it. “You can?” she asked softly, hope sparking back to life in the raise of her head, the prick of her ears, the way her scruffy little tail wiggled a happy little wiggle. “Really?”
She leapt to scurry over and sneak a snuggle. Her new friend coughed and warned her off, though, and she pulled up short in her immediate dash to cuddle up close to really anyone who would have her. “Oh! Oh no, okay. I hope you feel better soon!” She shifted her weight back and forth, all that bouncy cuddle me energy redirected into nervous fidgeting.
“It’s nice to meet you, Cress. I'm Xero. And I'm...well, I'm okay I guess, like I’m not sick or nothin’, but I dunno where to go. Everybody's scurrying away different directions, and I only really know the forest and the river, and not any of the other places. And I don't got nobody to tell me. Can you tell me how to find a safe place?”
She needs to gather her strength. She is a healer, after all. If she wanders around like this, sick as can be, it won’t be conducive to what she wants to do. She wants to build a sanctuary for them to go to, for the sick horses to heal and recover and regain their strength. In spite of the trauma that Cress has endured—the trauma that no matter how much time passes, she will never truly get passed—she wants to help others. She wonders if her father, wherever he is, is proud of her. She knows that her mother wouldn’t be proud; she had better, stronger children who didn’t want to build others up but instead tear them down.
She hardly remembers her mother, aside from the bitterness that resided in that mare’s heart.
The child asks her a question, jolting her back to reality and the bodies rushing all around them, scrambling to find a safe place. “Depending on what you need, I can absolutely help you,” she reassures her, resisting the urge to draw the girl into the safety of her golden wings. It’s too dangerous; if the plague is already spreading, just sharing breaths with young Xero may be enough to infect her. She doesn’t know if it’s transmitted through touch, as well.
It is clear the girl wants comfort, though, and Cress’s heart breaks a little when her dash to the golden mare’s side is cut short. “I’ll be alright,” she tells Xero, attempting a small smile that doesn’t quite hide the pain she’s feeling.
Xero asks her if she knows of any safe places, and Cress’s smile becomes genuine. “As a matter of fact, I do know a few safe places,” she says. “Do you know how to swim? I found an island that is completely secure—the sickness cannot spread there. I plan to make a home there, and bring sick horses there to help them recover. Would you like to come there with me?”
infected.
Xero bit her lip and fidgeted, ducking her head and shifting her weight back and forth on her front legs trying hard not to go snuggle up to Cress’s side or her chest. She looked like a good snuggler, and something told Xero those almost-familiar dragony wings were good for wrapping around you and making you feel cozy safe.
Plus, even though part of Xero thought she should be bright shining yellow and white instead of soft golden tones, those colors felt like they were meant for burrowing against and rubbing her face on and she could almost feel someone fussing with her scruffy yellow forelock, licking it and trying to get it to stay in place.
Not that it ever would.
“Are you sure you’re gonna be alright?” Xero asked softly, peeking up at her with brows furrowed in concern. Oh, but. She bit her lip again and her scrunched small, curling in on herself a little. “Oh. Um. I dunno how to swim. I never tried. Is it hard?”
She ducked her head a little more and asked softly, “And um. Is it...is it safe to--if you’re sick, an' I'm not 'posed to get close, is it safe to come with you? Or would maybe I get sick too? Maybe you could tell me how? I can follow d’rections!” Not very well, to be super honest, but she at least thought she could! “An’ if it’s safe there, I can meet you!”
Cress was already infected.
She rolled a 4 and will not express a trait.
|
