02-17-2019, 11:59 PM
Aten did not know exactly when he fell asleep upon his arrival on the Island Resort's beach, only that at some point he did since he woke up to a breeze blowing through his mane and the rising ocean tide brushing against his back hooves. The stallion wearily lifted his head, eyes half-open and barely taking in his surroundings. His entire body was in immense pain, the sting only made worse by the sea water that made contact with the open wounds he had.
For a moment, Aten did not recall why he was here, until he looked around to see where he was. Other horses were here as well, two of them already breaking off and heading in search of what they had all come here to look for. The stallion racked his memories, and then recalled what he came here for: an ingredient for the Plague's cure, seashells apparently.
He wanted to stay where he was and rest, try and sleep off the pain, but knew he could not afford to do so. He had a mission to fulfill here, and he couldn't just give up. Taking his time, the stallion hauled himself to his hooves, gingerly lifting each one at a time to test them and make sure they wouldn't give out beneath his weight.
He took a moment to assess the wounds he could see; quite a number on his legs, along with two on his belly, already adding to his accumulation of burn scars. He also felt a large amount of pain on his left hindquarter, and he feared the worst from what he'd been attacked by. Despite his hesitation of the ocean, he stepped toward the water and turned to look at his reflection.
Just as he thought, a small, but decent, piece of flesh was missing from his left hindquarter. It definately looked like some form of a bite mark, like a bird's rather than a big cat predator. Whatever had attacked him underwater, Aten was sure he did not want to run into them again.
A breeze brushed through Aten's mane again and he turned away, unable to look at the damage he'd accumulated. He glanced back toward the other horses to see that the two he'd spotted before were now out of his sight, which left at least eleven, including Aten himself, to make a decision.
It seemed simple enough, but could determine the outcome of this situation for better or worse. He figured someone would eventually find the ingredients no matter what direction they chose, but... worst case scenario...
No, he couldn't think like that. The stallion assessed his options, his mind racing. The flat, open, empty-looking beach that could be hiding secrets beneath the sand, or the structures off to the right that had become talk of the island. He honestly didn't know...
But he made his choice. Turning right, Aten headed on, limping slightly with every step but pushing himself to keep going anyways.
For a moment, Aten did not recall why he was here, until he looked around to see where he was. Other horses were here as well, two of them already breaking off and heading in search of what they had all come here to look for. The stallion racked his memories, and then recalled what he came here for: an ingredient for the Plague's cure, seashells apparently.
He wanted to stay where he was and rest, try and sleep off the pain, but knew he could not afford to do so. He had a mission to fulfill here, and he couldn't just give up. Taking his time, the stallion hauled himself to his hooves, gingerly lifting each one at a time to test them and make sure they wouldn't give out beneath his weight.
He took a moment to assess the wounds he could see; quite a number on his legs, along with two on his belly, already adding to his accumulation of burn scars. He also felt a large amount of pain on his left hindquarter, and he feared the worst from what he'd been attacked by. Despite his hesitation of the ocean, he stepped toward the water and turned to look at his reflection.
Just as he thought, a small, but decent, piece of flesh was missing from his left hindquarter. It definately looked like some form of a bite mark, like a bird's rather than a big cat predator. Whatever had attacked him underwater, Aten was sure he did not want to run into them again.
A breeze brushed through Aten's mane again and he turned away, unable to look at the damage he'd accumulated. He glanced back toward the other horses to see that the two he'd spotted before were now out of his sight, which left at least eleven, including Aten himself, to make a decision.
It seemed simple enough, but could determine the outcome of this situation for better or worse. He figured someone would eventually find the ingredients no matter what direction they chose, but... worst case scenario...
No, he couldn't think like that. The stallion assessed his options, his mind racing. The flat, open, empty-looking beach that could be hiding secrets beneath the sand, or the structures off to the right that had become talk of the island. He honestly didn't know...
But he made his choice. Turning right, Aten headed on, limping slightly with every step but pushing himself to keep going anyways.