And so you choose

[Time]

They come, lost in their own worlds. No, not really worlds, just different pockets of time. He’d plucked them all out of Time and placed them in a different stream. One by one, they pick a path, and as they do, he appears. Time is largely humanoid, strutting beside you on two legs, though a lion’s tail brushes the ground behind him and green eyes with a cat-like pupil peer at you. “I cannot go where I am sending you,” he says simply, wasting no time on introductions (no pun intended…maybe). If you do not yet know who he is, then you are fool anyway.
 
“And I cannot send you by a direct route.” Because of course, he is not supposed to go where you are going. If he were, he’d simply go himself. But She lives in a place Time cannot touch. A fixed point in time that even he cannot change, cannot manipulate, cannot go. It’s always a she, isn’t it? And it’s always love, in the end, that drives any tale worth telling. Any adventure worth having.
 
“Save her,” is all he says before disappearing just as he’d come. Without fanfare, without warning. As soon as he disappears, light glows in the distance. An exit. So you keep going, because there’s nowhere else to go but back. Though you can. You can always go back. It is a choice that so few make, but it’s always a choice for anyone but Time. Time does not go backward. It slows, it flows, and it stills. But it never goes back.
 
LEFT – Iasan, Divide, Hawke, Lucrezia, Cerva
At the end of the tunnel, wind howls. The temperature drops, colder than the winter you left behind in Beqanna. As you exit the tunnel, snow spreads out before you, rising up in front of you. You are at the base of a mountain, and there are two clear paths branching out beneath your feet. They look traveled, though by what, it’s hard to be sure. One path leads around the mountain – longer, but safer. The second path cuts through the mountain – direct, but harder. Which do you choose?
 
Choose your path around/through the mountain. Detail your trip. You must run into at least one obstacle that would make sense given the landscape you are in. That obstacle can be an animal (mythical or non), a natural disaster, whatever. Your trip ends when you reach a Stonehenge-like rock formation on the other side of the mountain.
 
CENTER – Jay’s Wing, Irisa, Argo, Briske, Rora
At the end of the tunnel, the light is almost blinding. As you exit, the sun sits high in the sky, the temperature rising, sweat breaking out on your coat. The earth beneath your feet shifts as sand does, dunes rising around you. The world is miserably hot, and in the glare of the sun it is hard to make out the paths worn by those who have come before you. But the paths are there. One leads to the west, the ground turning to a more stable, rocky terrain though the sun will be above you the whole way. One leads to the east, the ground remaining sandy and the dunes large, though with luck, as the sun sets, you’ll find a bit of shade. Which do you choose?
 
Choose your path through the desert. Detail your trip. You must run into at least one obstacle that would make sense given the landscape you are in. That obstacle can be an animal (mythical or non), a natural disaster, whatever. Your trip ends when you reach a tree-ringed oasis at sunset.
 
RIGHT – Druid, Nyxia, Teal
At the end of the tunnel, you hear the lullaby of gentle waves. The temperature is pleasant here, but the water an obvious problem. It is low tide though, and a land bridge is clearly visible right beneath the surface of the water. Partway to the island, the bridge splits right and left, dipping lower in the water. To the right, a volcano looms, smoke billowing from the top. To the left, the island turns to a dense jungle, where you know even from this distance light does not touch the ground.  Which do you choose?
 
Choose your path to the other side of the island. Detail your trip. You must run into at least one obstacle that would make sense given the landscape you are in. That obstacle can be an animal (mythical or non), a natural disaster, whatever. Your trip ends when you reach a hut on the other side of the island.
 
 
***
Blazing Sunfall, Karaugh, and October have been eliminated. For the next RL month, time will move uncontrollably around your character (effecting only your character). I.E. one moment you might speed up, talking or moving like you hit fast-forward; or it might slow down like someone put you in slow-mo; or it might just stop for you, and you freeze for a few minutes.

Please correct me if I have your character's choice wrong, and just reply to the correct prompt.
 
The 1,500 word maximum is still in effect. You have until Saturday, December 31st at 9am EST to reply.
 

[hawke]

Time comes before she can sense him, and she supposes that make sense.

Hawke is running down the path, guided by nothing but the thumping of her own heartbeat when he appears and suddenly, before she even realizes why or how, she is slowing. He is unlike anything that she has ever seen and likely anything she will ever see again, but she is intrigued. More curious than frightened—so curious, in fact, that she almost forgets the screams that drove her here in the first place.

At his words, her expression grows puzzled, and then frustrated, and finally resolute, in the way that only the youthful can be. This was an adventure. No, not just an adventure—a rescue mission. Hawke’s young, thin face swung upward and away from Time to peer ahead, straining against the dark. Someone had screamed, and she was responsible for finding it. Her, she corrected herself. Saving her.

As resolve settled into her heart, Hawke turned to look back to Time, but he was already gone.

“Okay,” she whispered, softly and to herself. “I will go.”

Because of course she would. She always would.

Ignoring the shivers that raced down her spine, ignoring pinpricks of fear, she straightened her shoulders and moved toward the faint glow that now lit the horizon. In her head, she thought of the stories that her parents had told her; she thought of the stories she had been told of them. Of the wars they had fought and the bloodshed they had seen. She was born of Kings and Generals; of shadow and light.

There was nothing she could not face.

Still, her pulse quickened as she stepped outside, as the temperature dropped, as the cold took hold. The wind was vicious and cutting as it whipped around her, water leaking from her eyes as the breath was stolen from her lungs. This was unlike any winter that she had ever experienced, certainly unlike the mild seasons that she experienced on the volcanic island of her home. Her slender body quaked in response.

Up ahead, through the drifts of snow, the path twisted and turned, shooting outward and upward, and then forking. To the left, the path was wide and the snow was trampled down; it sloped gently. Were it not for the promised length of the trek around the mountain’s base (so similar to the craggy slopes of the volcano on Tephra) or the frigid temperatures, it would be an appealing option. It was certainly safer.

To the right, the path bled into the mountain.

It was darker, thinner, the path growing steeper the more she stared at it. She could not see the entire expanse of its journey, but in her heart she knew that it would be more dangerous. But it would be, could be, quicker. It was a gamble, as the path could very well also wind through the mountain and spit her out no closer to her destination than when she began, but it could also cut her trip in half.

The wind cut through her, and she shivered violently, but not from the cold. On the fingers of the gale, she heard the echo of that initial scream, and she saw the strange creature walking alongside her. She thought of his voice, and the promise she had made him. She thought of her parents, and their home.

“Okay,” she repeated to herself. “I will go.”

And so she did. Ignoring the instincts that told her to play safe and being braver than she had any right to be, she turned her path toward the right and feigned courage as she entered into the mountain, the light dimming and the path narrowing even more. As she walked, she felt the damp walls closing in on her, the cool rock brushing against her shoulders. The further she went, the more tension rose in her throat until she felt that she would tear apart from anticipation. She stumbled but righted herself, pulse skyrocketing.

It was at that point that she saw it.

Felt it.

The air began to glow and she stopped, breath catching in her throat as the thing began to form before her. When her eyes finally adjusted to the being, if she could even call it that, she noticed that it faintly pulsed, the light shifting from a soft, cool white to a glowing ember of yellow to a fierce swath of blue. It flickered in the stagnant air and shifted ever so slightly, bouncing in place with the delicacy of an exhale. It had no true shape, no expression, no features to speak of, but she somehow knew it was alive.

So she was not as surprised as she perhaps should have been when she heard—no, felt—its voice.

“Hawke. Over here, Hawke.”

She did not move—not at first, expression hardening into a frown and heels stubbornly dug in.

“We can help you, Hawke. We know where to find her.”

At this, she softened, youthful confusion shaken before the seemingly mature confidence of the being. If she was being honest with herself, she didn’t know what she was doing. She was just a child playing at the adventures her parents had told her. She was no great warrior or wise diplomat. She had no years of experience from which to draw—only childish bravery and foolish ambition. She took a step forward.

“Yes, over here. We’ll help you. We’ll help you save her.”

Her pulse thudded in her throat but relief washed over her. Help. She needed help. She glanced away from the softly pulsing light and looked around to where the walls were closing in on her, to the path that had led so far away from the ferocious winter of the mountain, to where Time paced waiting on her. Trusting her to do a job she said she could do. If they could help her, maybe she still could. She took another step.

“Good, Hawke. You are so smart. So brave. History will remember you for this.”

Would they? Would history remember her like her parents? Her grandparents? Would Time remember her fondly, keep her memory around after her bones had long been ground to ash? Excitement pooled in her veins at the thought. Time would thank her for her service. She would be a hero. And so, another step.

“So close.”

The light flickered, pulsed with joy.

“Another step. That’s a brave warrior. Another step.”

She obeyed, the path opening up. She paid no mind to the path as it twisted to the left and stepped blindly after the light, hooves leaving hard-packed ground to dirt that was softer, less sturdy. If it began to give way, if the way began to slope, she paid it no mind. The light was her friend. It would not lead her astray.

“Your parents will be so proud.”

At this, she blossomed like a flower. The idea swelling in her chest.

“Just a little closer to glory, Hawke.”

Something clicked in her as soft as the changing of the minutes on the clock. A reminder. Intuition. Her eyes sharpened, focused, her voice ringing out. “You mean closer to saving her, right?” She paused, digging in her hooves again as the light began to pulse a little more frantically, colors changing erratically.

“Of course. Of course. Just a little closer to her.”

But the damage had been done, the veil ripped as Hawke looked down. Down to the ground that fell away from her hooves and into the cavern below, to the gaping space below the light, to the all of a sudden roaring sound of water. Her face twisted into something hard, something fierce, as she yelled.

“You lied!”

The light blew outward, as fast and dangerous as an explosion. She stumbled backward and turned blindly toward where the path curved upward, scrambling to find the path again. This time, the light did not speak to her, but she still heard it, its screams ringing in her ears, its promises of failure making her heart cold. She did not turn to look at it, did not dare. She felt the tears as they streamed down her cheeks and she raced outward, not stopping until she tripped and fell, rolling hard to a stop.

When she realized she was outside, she finally opened her eyes, ashamed by the way she shook, ashamed of the weakness she had discovered within her, ashamed of the blood that now dripped from the scrapes along her shoulder. She glanced upward at the massive rocks jutting upward and spinning outward in some alien formation. Climbing to her feet, fear clutching in her heart, she whispered softly.

“I will still go.”

And she would.

She had to.

hawke

I’m a princess cut from marble

{ smoother than a storm }

word count: 1,461 (whew)

hawke went through the mountain and encountered a will-o'-the-wisp.

[Iasan]

Time stands still.

The world goes dark, and yet Iasan knows that Time has yet to make an appearance. All is stopped, and as before, he continues to age as though the passage of time were no matter at all. The adolescent male takes a pause inside the cave once the last vestiges of light are no longer to be seen. He stretches his neck and shakes out his long tattered mane, his back flanks gleaming in whatever little light could still remain. Iasan’s tail wraps around his body like a whip, preparing to make contact with his body like it always does. He is alone—

“I cannot go where I am sending you…”

Warmth returns to his body almost as soon as he hears the voice. His tail slaps against the back side of Time, as if giving him the old heave ho out of existence… For who can tell Time to go find his grave better than the end of a year? Iasan lifts his head. He says nothing as Time continues to speak to him, tick, tick, ticking in his ears. He nods, and the entity dissipates almost as soon as he appears, flittering off into oblivion. Save her.

It’s always a woman.

He keeps his head low, and the broad-mouthed cave is as broad-bottomed as its entrance was. Soft white light plunges over the sooty appaloosa man-child, battling away the darkness. Before long, Iasan is awash with it, stepping out of the cave entirely and into stiffly packed snow. His long lashes cover his eyes, and he blinks—the whole area shimmering as diamonds that have been scattered about to the four winds. But there is no wind. No birds. Nothing. No other tracks that have cracked the perfection of this landscape but his own. And yet, he can still hear the feminine screams of a young feminine thing in the distance. His ears rotate to catch a gauge on the sound, and his nostrils flair agitatedly as his head continues to go up, up, up.

The rising mountain in front of him is not a surprise. Of course he knows it’s there, he’d be a fool not to have seen it before now. The screams for help seem to come from beyond the mountain, and Iasan is afforded a second glance at the monolith in front of him. Two directions that, had this been a normal day, would be obviously well-trekked paths that would take a body to the other side. But this was not a normal day.

One spirals up and around. Ice, rocks, heights. The other cuts straight through the heart of the mountain. More dark. Shorter.

There’s always a price for the shorter path.

I’ll pay it.

He snorts, and crystallized puffs of air escape his lungs and float up towards the clouds above. Iasan will brave the dark once more.

He does not tarry in the light. The beautiful landscape his eyes beheld upon exiting the cave are behind him, and he wastes no time crossing the snow, hearing the crunching of it beneath his feet. The ground remains cold, but the snow falls away as the cover of rock takes the place of the sky, and the world is plunged into darkness once more. Iasan finds himself mildly irritated at the great shifting of time and light versus dark, but he takes it in stride.

I don’t care what they say. Everyone is at least a little scared of the dark.


***

He traverses for some time. The cold crispness that inhabited the start of the mountain cave has now become warmer, moist and slick, with a stench to signal the coming of death. There are rotting corpses lining the path of his chosen route, and Iasan swallows a pocket of air—the trickle of sweat pouring down his neck and collecting on his shoulders. There is always a price to pay for the shorter path.

I should not have come this way.

The corpses—they are familiar to him. Eerily, they are the faces familiar to his memories… to Jason’s memories. Creatures he has known and spoken with, battled with, gone to war with…loved. As though they had been dug up from the beach and dragged here. Memories of another life assail Iasan, and he is overcome… He closes his eyes, steps back, and he does not know where to turn. He needs to continue forward. To save her.

Whoever her is.

The corpses—the carcasses—look as if they have been eaten. Iasan pulls up his courage, and takes a step forward once more, trying to silence his mind to concentrate on what is before him. The stench is overwhelming. Ammonia and death roll off of them in pungent waves and singe his nose hairs. And yet, he takes a step again. And again. Once Iasan has his rights about him, the bodies of the dead begin to move. They get up on their hooves and follow Iasan, sticking to him like a shadow. There is at least 50 of them dancing about him, walking as if among the living. And the memories…the dead…the passing of time. His thoughts can no longer contain it—

“YOU HAVE NO PLACE HERE AMONG THE LIVING!” they shout. Iasan rears as they rush headlong into him, assaulting his body. The bones clatter against each other and the rotted meat of their muscles slaps against Iasan like a weighted club. “YOUR LIFE ENDED UPON THE BEACH!” Skeletal hooves pushed upon him, shoving him into the rock floor of the mountain cave. Teeth that were gnawed into sharp fangs sunk into soft flesh, and Iasan growled allowed, closing his eyes and lowering his head, pushing forward as a battering ram. In his head, he was beginning to come to grips that he was not simply who he thought he was. He spread his legs and settled his body, flexing his muscles against the weight of the dead, pushing him back, dragging him to the coast to meet his demise. Iasan, son of Ruan, dug his heels in, gripping for traction. His ears were pinned back against his head in anguish, his teeth bared.

He was slipping.

Slipping.

Perhaps Jason’s place was to return to the dust. Perhaps his time was over.

Perhaps…

“NO!” Iasan screamed. The walking dead were pushing against him, assaulting his body—attacking his mind. “I AM NOT LIKE YOU ANY MORE!” He kicked back, curled his spine, and lowered his head to the ground again. The corpses groaned their protests and clamored at him once more, but he pushed them aside. Faint yellow eyes glowed at him in the dark, and he continued to fight against them—to clear the path. He had a mission to do. Whatever he was, whatever he had been; Time had a new use for him, and he intended to complete the mission.

He had to save her.

***

The last of the dead horses—the memories—of another life were beaten away, the bones of the dead scattered throughout the cave as he had fought against them. His body was not unscathed. Iasan limped as he cleared the mountain, blinking against the sunlight. He squinted his eyes to keep the light from blinding him, and looked at the damage the toll had taken on his body.

He was scratched all over; ruby-red blood stained his snow-spotted hide. Along his stomach—gnashes and gaping wounds where teeth had taken out chunks of flesh. He winced as he walked. Wounds would heal. His memories—they would remain. The haunted images of a man reborn who should have stayed dead on the beach. The fear. The guilt. The selfishness that Time had brought him back for his own selfish purposes. Iasan snarled.

This is not what he had signed up for.

He continues downward, into the valley that lay below. Time has not continued here either. Dead of winter—nothing growing, and bitterly cold—there is no snow. Only bare rock and ice. There, in the middle, the faint sound of the calls for help continue. They echo—ethereal, disconnected. Iasan’s ears flicker around, trying to catch a gauge on where the sound is coming from. As the expanse opens up, a thick fog rolls in. Iasan walks, limping—there is no quickness in his step. Evening falls when he reaches the bottom, and the fog thickens. The faint, dark shapes of rock formations appear and disappear as the low-laying clouds play between; Iasan’s green eyes dance with the images as he climbs the rock-hewn bluff.

He takes a step, and with a grunt, he falls on his bad leg—the ice here is thick. From his place on the ground, he looks up; the fog clears just enough to reveal a gigantic pict circle. The air inside it is warmer than the air outside… and something about this place seems…different. Slowly, Iasan gets up, his eyes suspect as he looks around for what may come next.

What is this new devilry?

Iasan

Word Count: 1500.

[Jay's Wing]

Jay continued down the tunnel, the faint light gradually fading until it's dark as her pelt. She can't see anything, but instead feels along the walls. Jay feels cramped, squished, and even the presence on another. She shakes her head, determined it's just her brain's failed attempt at soothing her raw nerves.

But as she continues, the presence grows, until just before she exits. She turns her head, someone is talking. Jay's eye's widen in astonishment at the beast near her. The tail, piercing green eyes. Everything seems so..familiar.

The girl listens to what the man has to say. "Save her."

Jay's wing looks ahead, blinking at the blinding light. "Save who?" she asks, turning to see no one. She shakes her head, trying to decipher what just happened. "Great, now what?" she mumbles. As she continues out into the blistering heat, she realizes that she's in a desert.

To the one side, there's more desert, to the other, mountain. Jay looks between the paths, comparing possible dangers. She chooses the mountain path, thinking that it might be cooler. As she continues, her assumptions are soon proved wrong.

Jay slowly tredges along the trail, gravity begging ant tugging at her tiny hooves. "Why'd I choose this way?" she questions herself. Her left hind slips, resulting in her right hip smarting against the smooth stone of the path. Jay's Wing swiftly git up, resulting in a flirt with death.

"Stupid piece of-" but she got cut off by a scream. In horror, she whipped around. A slender, tawny pelt pounced on her. Jay's Wing couldn't tell if she screamed or if it was the creature again. Claws, sharper than the stones ebbing their way into her side raked down her shoulder. She rolled, the cougar now under her.

Jay's Wing rose, studdying the mysterious animal briefly before lunging. Her shoulder searing with pain, she landed a blow on it's box like head. But she had been careless about protecting her underside. The feline bit her stomach, but her blow knocked it'd head down. Restulting in a nasty bite to her leg.

Rearing in pain, she swiftly turned, her size nearly matching that of her opponent. one versus one. She kicked the cougar. It flew off the trail, landing with a deep thud in the sand and rocks below. Slowly, Jay peered over the edge, satisfied with the now still cougar.

She limped along, both leg and shoulder bleeding. Jay stared blankly as she reached the end of the trail, shock an bloodloss seeping in. She did notice, however, a cool and welcoming oasis. She went and laid in the shade of a palm, breathing coming in rasps.

[Rora]

You need never feel broken again.

Right up the middle I run, and the only sounds I hear are the clattering clomping noise of my itty bitty hooves on hard stone, the pounding of my heart, and the whoosh of air in and out of my lungs. But as soon as I charge forward into the dark, somebody is next to me. No matter how hard I run, he’s there beside me, all reared up on his back legs and looking kinda like the monkeys Momma told me bedtime stories about, painting pictures in the air with the light. Except his fur’s all missing, ‘cept for a fuzzy tail with a poof of longer hair on the end. Weird.

I slow down to a walk, panting and looking up into eyes a pretty green, facing forward instead of to the sides. Must make it hard to see behind him, but he doesn’t seem to mind really. I think I’d be constantly craning around to look if I could only see to the front, but he just looks right at me. “I cannot go where I am sending you. And I cannot send you by a direct route,” he says, and I tilt my head, puzzled. Sending me? Sending me where? Oh, hopefully not far, or for very long! Momma’s gonna be so worried, and Daddy too, and Uncle Kade even though he hides it behind that funny stony face of his that he puts on sometimes.

“Save her.” Oh, I was right, somebody’s in trouble! My blue eyes go wide and I nod solemnly just before he disappears. I keep walking forward, not really sure how exactly I’m supposed to save her or who she even is, but hopefully I’ll understand when I get there. That’s what life has been so far, figuring things out as I go, though this time I don’t have anybody bigger than me helping me learn or answering questions or guiding me forward. Just the soft glow of light in the distance. Momma? I scamper toward the light, even though it doesn’t quite feel like Momma’s light. Hers can be that sweet, soft glow and is when she’s not thinking about it or doing it for me. But she knows how much I love the flickering dance of auroras shimmering in the air around us, so she makes those way more often. Since I got here, anyhow.

Oh, goodness. Yes, that is definitely not my mommy. The light gets so, so bright as I step out of the tunnel and into a whole new world, or at least it looks like a whole new world. The sun burns so much hotter in the sky, soaking into my fluffy, mousey grey baby coat and making it all damp and dark with sweat. Each step is a little harder than usual, my feet sinking into sand and working the muscles in my legs differently than walking on nice solid dirt and grass; it’s kinda like walking in snow, but it doesn’t crunch and give the same. It sinks and shifts and stirs, swallowing my hooves up instead of giving way beneath them. Oh boy. Oh goodness me. I pause to look around, carefully studying the two paths before me. Or what I can see of them, anyhow.

One leads away from the sinking, shifting, swallowing sand onto rocky ground that looks a lot more firm and maybe easier to walk across. The sand is kinda fun, and even though I’m in a hurry I drop to the ground, rolling in it to skritch the itchy spots under my baby fluff and frolicking and enjoying the way it sticks and clings and noms my feet. Just for a minute. Well, or a couple of minutes, okay. But I think walking across allllll that sand sounds like maybe too hard for my tiny legs that are already kinda tired after a whole lot of walking and some running and more walking. So I scramble to my feet, shaking off what I can of the lovely sand and galumphing down the rockier, sturdier path.

I only run for a little while though, quickly running low on steam despite the heat and slowing back down to a walk. A walk that lasts what feels like forever, as the sun crawls across the sky and beats down on me and wears away my energy bit by bit by bit. I want to stop and curl up in a ball and sleep. In a stream. And fill my hungry belly, so Mommy should definitely be there too. Yes, that would be lovely. But if I stop, it’s gonna be hard to get back up, and I’m s’posed to save her, whoever she is. So I keep trudging on, picking my way across the dry, rocky earth.

Oh goodness, and the longer I walk, the thirstier I get, too. Sweat evaporates as quick as my body can make it, leaving my coat dry and my throat dry and my eyeballs starting to feel scratchy and dry, and my nose, and my all of me feels like it’s been wrung out, squeezed ‘til all the wet is gone and I’m a crispy crunchy husk. The sun’s so bright it hurts my eyes, and it’s all I can do to keep moving forward. As the hot, hot sun finally starts to set, which really just makes it look brighter and right in front of me and makes me kinda want to turn around and walk backward so at least I’m not staring into it, oh wait, that does sound nice. Okay. Good, yeah, I do that. As long as the path is falling away behind me, I at least can duck my head a little and not see quite so much of the blinding-bright sun.

That plan’s all well and good really, right up ‘til I bump butt-first into something. I yelp, and scramble forward and whirl around to face the something that is too warm and squishy to be a rock or a tree or something. Right, definitely not a rock or a tree. It looks, actually, kinda like the naked monkey man with the kitty tail. Except this one only has that very same naked monkey face, and the rest of him is all kitty. Big, big kitty. With that tuft at the end of his tail, too, just like the one who sent me here.

“Oh! Hello,” I say, sneaking a tentative step forward and smiling. “I’m Rora, and I’m here to save somebody, I guess?” I peek around him, but he’s blocking the path, and I can’t see past his great furry shoulders. “Um, ‘scuse me, can I get through, please? It’s very important.”

This new maybe-friend blinks those same pretty green eyes at me and tilts his head, looking me over. He doesn’t move, which is a little rude, but maybe he is very tired? “Which letter of the alphabet has the most water?” he asks, his tone bland as he pretty much ignores everything I said and changes the subject..

What? I tilt my head right back, my brow furrowing as I try to understand. Maybe he’s thirsty? I know I am. “Um, I don’t know, but if you tell me, and tell me where to find it and also maybe how to carry it, I’d be happy to bring you some water. It sure is hot out here, huh?”

“Which letter of the alphabet has the most water?” he asks again, and I frown up at him, glaring.

“What’s an alphabet?” I ask back, my tone grumpy in a whole brand new way I’ve never heard before, not from me at least. Kinda reminds me of Mommy, actually, which is almost cool enough to distract me from my very rude new friend. Who, by the way, just looks at me again, blinking his stupid, pretty eyes. “And what’s a letter?” I demand, stomping my hoof and trying to sneak past even as I ask it. His eyes get this annoyed expression, and he growls a bit.

“Letters are symbols for the sounds that make words.” Ooooh! That sounds fun! But also I still don't know any of them, and at my continued sorta blank, sorta eager-demanding stare he sighs and begins to recite. “Eh, bee, sea, dee--”

“Oooh, seas have lots of water, right? Is it that one?” Oops. He glares a little, but snorts and rolls those pretty eyes and stands. “Oh, thanks, new friend!” I shout, dashing between his legs and onward into the sunset. And that sneaky imp, it turns out he was hiding trees and water behind him the whole time!

Sometimes darkness can show you the light.

pic by Qinni

[Druid]

“Right,” he breathes and makes his way into the tunnel.

He’s not made it far at all when the being appears, that fickle fiend named Time. A man and yet not a man, a lion gracing his features with a regal flair, walking as two-leggers walk.  “I cannot go where I am sending you,” and that snaps Druid to attention, his roving eyes finding the face, the cat-like pupils, the lips and tuning in. “I can not send you by a direct route either,” Time goes on and Druid’s face goes from interest to knowing, Time was wanting something of him, of course he was. “Save her,” he says before disappearing and the livered stallions lips draw a flat hard line.

“Save her, right, of course,” he huffs because it is always so. Save the girl, be a hero, do my bidding- tool. Tales of crusades always went this way and Druid had done such a fine job merely listening or telling such tales. Now he must perform one and the idea was less than thrilling. He was no knight, no hero.

Yet of course Time was one such entity he could be persuaded or convinced to do something like this by. Time was an essential part of balance in the world, just like the rocks, the trees. Everything relied on Time, just as they relied on air to breathe, water to drink and yet time was more consuming than any one thing. Time only takes, it does not give. There is only so much of it to be had.

As Time exits, light fills the tunnel, urging Druid onward and he follows it because where else might he go? Another tunnel, a way out and yet it is clearly not that, not as one might suspect. It is a way out and it is a way forward, the suspense to know what’s waiting is too much and thus he does not turn back- knowing full well he could.

At the end of the tunnel he hears the lullaby of waves and upon emerging he sees them. They lap the sand, kissing the shore with practiced affection. Tiny shells dot the waters edge and the tepid air blows against his skin with a pleasantness. This salty air is new and refreshing, if not a bit bitter compared to the consistent flower perfumed Meadows and pine filled Forests. He has no time to really enjoy it either, a land bridge clearly visible just below the azure surface of the water, the tide will not be out forever. An island looms in the distance, just hardly visible against the cloudless sky, merely a blot against the horizon. The livered stallion takes care as he crosses, his hooves parting the shallow water with a slush, splash, slush as he moves.  Every now and again he catches a slick spot, sliding to one side of the narrow walkway, his heart jumping through his throat with each uneven lurch. “Mother help me,(Mother Nature, naturally) the walk alone will be my end, never mind saving the girl,” he barks after yet another close call.

About midway across, the path splits, forking to the right and then to the left. Take right and choose fire, the mountain too large to miss, the smell of acrid smoke finding its way to him as he watches it billow in clouds of ash above the behemoth. Take left and choose darkness, a dense Jungle springing up from the earth and even from here Druid knows that his journey would be lightless. Either way he will have to traverse through the water first, taking a step and feeling the icy brine splash against  his forearm and elbows- the shock causing his teeth to rattle.

His steps are hurried now, murky eyes darting around, feeling much too small and vulnerable in the icy ocean waters. There are ripples in the surface not far, random splashes here and there and he tells himself, “just fish” but he knows it could be much more. Each breath seems to cost him, working much harder now to move against the waves, it’s not so easy walking against as he would have thought, no matter how simply it drips from one's mouth after a long drink.

Drink. He’s thirsty but knows he cannot refresh himself here, might as well drink poison and it is why he’s chosen the Jungle. Surely there will be something there to sate the dryness of his mouth.

It’s more struggle, the water rising, the tide coming in and he practically throws himself at the sand as he reaches the Jungle shore.

Save her. How much time does he have?

His auburn head shakes, he stumbles once and rights himself before he takes a steady pace into the trees. Birds call in loud shrieks and babbling song, he’s forced to slow as the leaves take the light and then Druid stills, waiting for his eyes to adjust. A hiss in the dark makes his head jerk and it feels as though something slithers against his leg. Keep moving, he thinks and takes a ginger step forward as things unknown rustle the foliage. It goes like this for a time, for what feels like forever because even though he progresses he feels as if the world has stopped once more.

Splash

A leg sinks into water as he crumbles forward from the step but before he can think his lips race forth, and he is drinking, sweet, sweet liquid. Mud, brack. Oh how his legs shake now, the water so good, filling his belly as he inhales what he doesn't swallow, rising in a fit of coughs. Catching his breath again he makes to move, to press onward for his journey but he asks his leg to move and it doesn’t. Won’t. Can’t. The bog is thick, sticky mud cuffing his leg like a vice and with each pull it sinks, Not good, definitely not good. “What the hell?” he asks himself, asks the Jungle too because how can she forsake him so? Tug, sink, tug, frown. Why did he choose the Jungle again? Oh right, water.

He simply can’t just pull himself out, each counter only digging him deeper in the muck, his free legs bending to accommodate his awkward pose. The livered stallion takes to looking around, what can he use, what can he seek for help when he simply has no means to do so alone? Some vines, just there but how can he reach them? Will he be able to pull himself out?

Rustle, growl.

The leaves stir, he can just barely make them out as they tremble but he doesn't need to strain too hard because the golden pelt emerges, crouched and ready. A jaguar paces, smelling his fear as it leaks to the whites of his eyes. Druid’s nostrils flare, wide, a whuff of air leaving him as he tosses, slipping further to his doom. No, no, no. Not for a girl, not like this, he begs himself, craning his neck to thick green ropes, lips searching.

Closer, closer the cat creeps, prowling from the brush with such ease, and soon Druid knows the feline will gain, will leap and then it will be over. All over.

Green, he can taste it, brown lips latching the hanging vines, teeth finding them next as he frantically attempts to live. And he does, yanking the solution though he knows not if it will hold but luck smiles on him and he forces himself up and out- squealing. She catches him just so, raking her claws at his chest as he struggles to gain his footing, blood wetting the earth as she finds his fleshy mass. He roars, emitting a sound deep from within- pain, horror, anger. Rearing up, his legs lashing out like swords, smacking her face and receiving a fierce snarl. Hah! he would say but there’s really no time and he can only think to run now, run away. And they ache, his legs, but he moves them, biting his cheek against the hot heat at his chest. Now running blind in fear in the Jungle is probably as stupid as you can get but that doesn’t matter now, living matters.

Save her.

So he runs, eats the earth with his legs and tells himself it doesn’t hurt. Forward, left, right, jump, forward. He runs and he crashes through the dense treeline, skidding to halt in a clearing that holds a hut.

Save her.

Yes, but who will save him?

druid

words: 1455 points:  HTML by Call

Jungle. Quicksand and Jaguar.

[Lucrezia]

Here it comes with no warning; capsize, i'm first in the water

It is only the darkness she can see. The pounding of hooves is the only thing she can hear—even her own heartbeat is quiet. Someone is out there, they called for her to come help. Nonetheless, she continues forward on this uncertain path without question of what or why. It is simply for her to trust the indefinite with her whole heart.

Suddenly, she is not alone. Lucrezia hears the pounding of foot onto solid ground. It is not like her loud hooves, but more soft and quieter. She can sense another at her side. It is another creature she has never imagined or seen before. Lucrezia is not frightened though. She has seen many things in her life time, things not part of this world. The mare looks to her left, watching two green eyes that peer at her. Then there is a voice—this is Time, somehow she knows it. She listens as he speaks.

Time needs her. “Okay,” she says without a question, “I will save her.” It was more than a simple need, but something that was desperately important to Time. Lucrezia knows what that felt like, and surely there was no time to waste. An exit appears, a bright light illuminating her path ahead. Her heart beats faster than she has ever felt it before but she is not afraid of what comes next. Lucrezia steps out into the light.

There was no going back now.

Suddenly, the temperature drops around her. Lucrezia shivers violently as the cold touches her and fills her body. The wind howls around her, almost like a chorus of wolves singing. There is snow all around her. It rises up in front of her, and thus a large mountain stands. It is truly not like the small volcano she has come to know, and certainly large like one of the mountains in the Chamber. Lucrezia breaths heavily, shivering again. She was not prepared for such a change of season—not when you live in a warm place all year long.

She peers through frosted hair strands and frozen eyelashes, noticing there are two paths. One is simple and one is hard. Lucrezia nods her head, quickly choosing the direct path through the mountain. It will not be an easy trip, but Lucrezia has never feared a challenging adventure and knew life was not simply so easy without obstacles. These obstacles are important, something she has learned and grown from. And this was no different, but she is quick to accept and makes her way through the mountain while she shivers from top to bottom.

The path becomes steeper as she climbs up. It is colder and the snow is much deeper here. Her breath is becoming heavy and fainter the more time she climbs up the path. Sometimes she passes through narrow paths and sometimes the path is wide. Lucrezia at times feels like stopping to take a rest. She is so very cold in this place. Yet, she does not. The mare, committed to her word and almost feels dutiful to save this her, continues forward. You are brave, she remembers Yael telling her. “I am brave,” she whispers as the wind howls through the mountain passageway.

After a long time, a foul stench reaches in her nostrils. It smells of rotting flesh and odor as if someone had not bathed in years. Lucrezia tries not to smell or breath the smell, but she cannot keep it away. The more she moves on the path, the more the smell becomes fouler. Eventually, the spotting of bodies ripped apart are all dotted across the pathway. There is bones and flesh, old and only a couple days old. Lucrezia coughs several times, and then there is a loud violent roar.

She freezes where she stands, looking up the pathway as a giant creature stands only fifty feet away from her. Her breath is held in for a moment but it feels like more than a lifetime. The giant is enormous with just one large eyeball. It is very hairy and definitely is the source of the unpleasant smell she has been trying to come to terms with. The cyclops holds a humongous hammer in his right hand. It is moving rather slowly towards Lucrezia. Suddenly, she has her breath back again and lets out a loud gasp for air to fill her lungs. The giant beast stops; it looks around casually though it seems to have trouble seeing anything. It then continues forward.

Lucrezia knows she must make a decision quickly. The cyclops is so close to her! Her eyes quickly consider situation before her. She notices how slow he moves and that she just might be small enough to make her way around him by hugging the right side of the wall. It was a risky plan. I’m brave, she tells herself and quietly makes her way forward with caution.

She inches forward, the giant is so close. The smell is so unbearable. She almost chokes at how foul it is. It makes her want to gag, but she knows she has to hold it in. She must!

As the giant gets closer, Lucrezia hugs the wall of the pathway. She is now almost inches from his body. The hair on his body rubs against hers, there are insects of all kinds and filth stuck in it. It is beyond disgusting, nothing she can imagine. Lucrezia gags at the sight of it. The noise is loud and echoes through the pathway. “Oh no, oh no!” She screams, and the giant bends down to peer at all the commotion. His eye searches, focusing here and there until it spots the mare’s body. It lets out a loud roar and Lucrezia screams again.

Her hooves pound against the snow, trying with all her might to escape this one-eyed beast. Then suddenly there is a bang on the ground. It rather sounds like a soft thump on the snow, but Lucrezia knows that this beast just smashed its large hammer onto the group. The earth shakes underneath her and suddenly the walls at her side begin to fall. The hammer of the giant causes the start of an avalanche. Lucrezia can hear the crashing of snow and ice fall, and is quick to glance above her watching it do so too.

“OH NO!” She shouts again and plumps forward at a quick canter, dashing through the snow and ice that falls. Lucrezia is quick with her movements and appears to be making an escape from the mountain that collapses around here. She doesn’t even bother to look back to see if the one-eyed giant is following her. It seemed that once the avalanche started he became very quiet—thankfully, she admits.

Then suddenly she trips. The snow and ice fall around her quicker, she gets caught up in all of it. Her movement becomes slower and quickly she is buried beneath it all. She is rolling, crashing and bumping all the way down the path. Lucrezia yells for help, but her sound is muffled by the snow.

It feels like a very long time, bumping and crashing against the mountain, but eventually she rolls slower and slower and comes to a stop. Lucrezia lets out a loud breath of relief and pain. Her body aches so bad. It feels like she has been broken into a million pieces but, in fact, she is surprisingly still in one piece. Lucrezia slowly digs her way out of the snow is she covered in. Her movements are slow, and surely she will ache for weeks and have bruises to heal. In time she digs herself out of the snow.

She blinks, feeling a bit dizzy from all the rolling. Once her vision is back to normal she peers around carefully. In the distance she sees something. It is a Stonehenge-like rock formation. Lucrezia moves forward, knowing this is where she is meant to go. She limps as she walks, slowly but carefully in time she will get there. There is not a lot of time left, but she hopes she has enough time to save her. Save her, she remembers Time saying. “I will,” she whispers softly, “I promise I will.” And Lucrezia always keeps her promises.

...too close to the bottom.

html © samshine| character info: here | picture reference: here

Encounters a cyclops and he causes an avalanche.

[Cerva]

A chill runs down the length of her spine. If not for the screams Cerva would have fled. She isn’t bold and brave like her brothers; she is the meek daughter, the fragile child, of a magician. Being a hero is foreign to her, even frightening in this moment, but her legs are still moving. Deeper into the cavern she wanders with her nutmeg eyes darting from one side to another, her ears frantically swiveling.

Cerva is so funneled – so focused – on navigating the tunnel that the mere howl of the wind startles her. It cries as it threads through the twists and turns, carrying flecks of untouched snow. At first, she startles to the right, but when she sees a faint light in the distance, she follows.

They say not to follow the white light, but she doesn’t stop until her hooves have sunken into the snow. This is perhaps the only time that pursuing a strange light is conceivable and favorable.

It’s daylight, she mutters to herself reassuringly, but what would be gold and bright is instead white with purity due to the gray-white clouds overhead and the snowy landscape that engulfs her now. A single leg extends forward as she paws the precipitation, the mound of snow crumbling underneath the weight. When her gaze lifts she sees the two winding paths, then the titanic mountain that towers above. Although footsteps have worn down the trails her heart still trembles with uncertainty and fear. She heard a scream, but doesn’t now.

She cannot stop.

The paths, blanketed with snow and branching in different directions, are both foreboding. Cerva cannot decipher which would be more treacherous (at least not from her low vantage point) and so she guides herself down the more direct trail. ”Someone is in trouble,” as though she’s calming her nerves or speaking to Dovev, ”I have to get to them soon.” She doesn’t want to imagine their peril or if they are in pain and so she moves quickly with calculative steps until a rock tumbles down the mountainside in front of her.

Cerva has traipsed nearly half of the mountain before the rock crosses her path. She takes a brief pause and glances up only to see a shaggy mountain goat. Its unnatural grace carries it effortlessly down in the incline in front of her. Its large head turns, massive horns curling around its ears. Cerva’s lips curl into a small grin as she observes the animal with great curiosity; she has never before seen such a thing. She is about to inch closer until she hears a low growl shatter the icy silence. Despite the wind whipping through her locks Cerva cannot mistake the primal noise of a predator’s hunger. The mountain goat heeds the warning as well and is about to face the source, but before it can entirely pivot the snow leopard is already leaping into the air. Cerva lurches forward to intervene, but the leopard is still in midair when a giant hand grabs it and slams it across the path against the rocks. Cerva hears the bones snapping and breaking on impact, the snow leopard limp and the mountain goat stunned.

Amid the blistering wind and snowfall, the troll appears with its skin and sparse hair as porcelain as its habitat.

Never having seen one, and now seeing the ferocity it represents, Cerva begins to panic. The mountain goat screams and darts away up the path, melting into the grayness of this wintry world. Having not been noticed yet, Cerva is able to more closely see the troll as it steps slowly toward its kill. Its small eyes search the leopard hungrily as giant hands reach forward and grab the animal. There is a deafening crack as it splits the corpse in half.

It hardly has a neck; its small head seems to simply attach to thick, muscular shoulders. Its arms are thick as tree trunks, its teeth dagger-like as its mouth opens to begin ripping mercilessly into its kill. Cerva instinctively backs up, afraid, but that is her mistake.

She stumbles over a rock which rips the troll’s attention from its meal to her. ”Oh, no,” she catches herself whispering, trembling underneath its weighted stare. The growl that emits past its scarlet lips is far more menacing than the leopard’s and it vibrates through her entire core. The monster inches toward her now, its footsteps echoing and chilling her. The racing of her heart triggers the magic in her veins. Poison ivy sprouts from the earth and wraps around the troll’s legs. Like snakes they weave around and around, climbing frantically until the troll is immobilized by confusion. Cerva seizes the opportunity and lunges forward. She runs, her legs reaching hungrily for the ground underneath. She is climbing the path and while it seems safe now, she can hear (feel) her ivy ripping apart followed by the quickened footsteps of the troll behind her. The air is knives in her lungs, burning and slicing her throat as she heaves in and out. The snow and the steepness are exhausting, scalding her muscles as they exert far more than she’s ever needed to. The troll is gaining with such great strides and Cerva’s fear is gripping her throat like cold, dead fingers.

Is this really how she is going to die? What of Dovev?

He is the main thought creeping into her mind, fueling her. She can’t leave him – she doesn’t want to lose him because she was too weak and afraid.

But her thoughts are interrupted by a sudden pain. Her body is swinging, her hind quarters skidding across the snow and turning her 180 degrees so that she is facing the troll. Her right rear leg is throbbing where it slammed her, but she was just far enough away that there are no broken bones, only bruising. Her breath catches and for a moment she prepares to simply accept her fate. The troll towers over her, edging closer with bloody drool dripping down its lips and chin. This is it, this is the end.

How Cerva is able to see past the troll toward the small crevice in the mountain, she doesn’t know. It’s a beacon of hope calling to her. Just as the troll’s hand lifts, preparing to hit and slam her into the rocks, Cerva’s body drops into that of a badger. Her size immediately shrinks and her slippery hooves are suddenly replaced by paws and talons. She screeches in fright as she thrusts herself forward and between the troll’s legs. The ground vibrates with the sheer force of its fist slamming into the path. It whips around but she is already scrambling toward the small opening in the rock. Her body forces itself in, her claws groping for anything and everything to help propel her to safety. The troll, roaring in aggravation, tries slamming the rocks to break them and reach her, but she is easing further and further away from it until she is spat into a cave opening. There is no snow here, covered by a roof of rock and granite.

But she doesn’t stop. The scream echoes still in her head.

Shifting back into a horse, Cerva navigates through the chasm, bringing her to another path that leads down toward flatter ground. With a single glance back across her shoulder Cerva takes off at a run. Her tail lifts and her muscles scream in exhaustion, but she doesn’t stop. She can still hear the troll’s roars and power as it slams the rocks in anger. Even when she slips on the snow, she rises to her feet and pushes herself onward until a strange rock formation greets her.

Only then can she bring herself to crumble in a heap. She tucks herself against the back of a large boulder, wanting only to rest. Her lungs are burning as she breathes and tries to recover. Her heart still patters, her adrenaline still coursing through her veins, but she takes a moment to rest and wonder where the screaming came from and how far away she is from it.

Cerva

Cerva nearly got her butt handed to her by a mountain troll and briefly met a mountain goat and leopard "friends" xD
1,356 words

[Divide]

all of my devils are free at last
all my secrets revealed

Save her.

God, she's such a sucker for a good love story. A slight shiver travels along her skin as she stares at Time’s odd visage. Before she can even formulate a response however, he disappears. It is left up to her to make a choice: continue forward or turn around. It's no question what she will choose. She will never be one to shy away from a dangerous path. She has spent so much of her life in carefree tedium that this adventure is an incredible opportunity she simply cannot refuse.

She might never have met such a powerful being before, but she knows without a doubt that this is the creature who had snatched her from time itself. She might have been confused when he had first appeared before her, but his few simple words had quickly reached her often too-soft heart. And she would do as he bade because she could do no less. Something inside her knows, incontrovertibly, that this is exactly what she has been waiting her entire life for. The hours - days - that she has idled away have been so that she could come to this moment. So, as the light appears in the distance, she steps forward with no hesitation, following her destiny.

At the end of the tunnel, she can hear the howling of the wicked winter wind long before she ever sees the snow. A nearly pristine blanket of white greets her as she steps out into that new world, stretching before her, drawing her eye to the massive mountain blocking her path. She knows, without question, that this is what Time must have been speaking of, the indirect route she must traverse. For a moment, it looks nearly insurmountable, but she is a stubborn creature. She would pass whatever trials are necessary to see this through.

As she eyes her surroundings, she notes the two faint paths angling away from her. One appears to lead around the Mountain, though given the size of that monstrosity, she wonders that it wouldn’t take days to reach the other side. The other path appears to lead directly into the mountain, to a cave gaping above her. Given her rather dubious options, she elects to brave the cave. It appears, at the very least, to be out of the ice and snow. Whether it is shorter, she has yet to determine

It soon becomes quite clear to her that she previously had no notion of what danger actually is. But that's Divide for you - young, brash, naive.

Her first obstacle comes in the form of a rock slide. She has made it nearly half a mile into the cave when she encounters the massive pile of rubble blocking her path. For a moment, she contemplates the rocks before her, and the possibility of returning to take the alternate route. But she has never been one to give up so easily. Instead she steps gingerly forward, poking carefully at the jagged pieces of stone. With a deep breath, she starts forward, fully intending to climb that awful mess.

It is not an easy trip. Rocks crumble and give way beneath her, the precarious surface forcing her to scrabble and pitch awkwardly. By the time she reaches the top, her cannons, knees, and fetlocks are thoroughly scraped, bruised, and bleeding. As she glances down at the equally precarious descent, she wonders (not for the first time) if she has made the right decision. However, given that she has two choices, continuing or returning the way she came (both of which involve climbing down), she elects to continue forward.

The journey to the other side is much quicker, mostly due to the fact she ends up sliding most of the way down (quite by accident). This results in some very unfortunate bruising on her behind, but hey, at least she's on the other side. So, a win-lose situation of sorts.

As she continues forward, she soon finds herself entering a large cavern. She pauses a moment, glancing around in an attempt to determine the best way through. She discovers that the tunnel appears to continue ahead in the distance. She is about halfway there when she hears a rather mysterious sound - something suspiciously reminiscent of a hiss. Still, she has made it this far, there is simply no way she is turning back now.

It does not take her long to regret that decision, however. Just before she reaches the tunnel, she encounters a beast of terrifying proportions. As it turns out, that spine-tingling hiss seems to have come from a rather intimidating serpent (read: large, spiky, and scary). The thing emerges from the opening before her (clearly its tunnel system), white fangs gleaming in the dim light of the cavern. Divide pauses for a only a single stunned moment before turning and bolting. She is not a fighter by any means, and this beast could eat her in one, horrifying gulp. If she could outrun it, maybe she would have a chance. Of course, that damn rock slide halfway down the previous tunnel makes that a bit trickier. So, apparently, she would simply have to give this fearsome looking thing the slip. Piece of cake, right?

She might not have any special abilities, but she does like to think she is a somewhat intelligent creature. Surely she has the wherewithal to outwit even this gnarly serpent. Despite the drumming of hooves on rock, she can hear the soft shushing sound of the snake’s belly sliding against stone, gaining rapidly on her retreating form. Fortunately, by pure chance, she spots a ledge that might be just the thing she needs.

Given the beasts proximity, she does not slow. Not if she wants to live. When the shelf is finally within reach, her muscles bunch as she springs upwards. Her calculated leap (along with a bit of pre-meditated angling) slams her into the far wall as her hooves clatter on the narrow shelf. She winces a bit as her aching muscles protest the abuse, but she does not stop. She uses the force and momentum to turn and spring away from the wall. The ugly, spiny snake is directly behind her. Fortunately, just as she had been, it is traveling too quickly to halt before it slams into the wall (seriously, how dumb is this thing?). Using the serpent’s back as a springboard, she scrambles away. Her feet slip briefly against the slick surface, causing her stumble awkwardly to the ground.

Fortune seems to be smiling on her however, as she somehow manages to land on her feet. Bursting forward, she sprints towards the opposite tunnel. Much to her satisfaction, the snake seems to have stunned itself, at least momentarily, in its collision with the wall. This gives her just enough time to reach the opening before it regains its bearings.

She doesn't pause to look back, even knowing the beastly creature must be following. She flies along the twists and turns, sweat coating her bruised body, breaths coming much too harshly, until she finally spies the tiniest speck of light. She races towards it as fast as she can, not pausing to consider just how small of an opening it is. Perhaps barely large enough to fit her. Ducking her head, she skids to a halt as she makes her attempt to shimmy through the hole. For a brief moment, her hips stick. Eyes widening in alarm, she heaves forward until, finally, she pops free.

As the maroon mare scrambles forward, she can hear the hissing behind her. Whipping around, she sees the nose of the furious snake. Despite her heaving sides and aching, bleeding body, she smiles, her lips stretching into a triumphant grin. If she’d had the energy, she would have stuck her tongue out at it.

Breath still coming in gasping bursts, she turns to survey her sanctuary. Her curiosity is piqued by the odd formation that rises before her. She hesitates for a moment, wondering if perhaps there is another trap awaiting her, but fear quickly gives way to curiosity. Stepping forward, she slowly (achingly) approaches the strange circle of standing stones.

divide

---

Word Count: 1363

[Argo]

Argo will not be continuing due to his writer's decision to go out on one last big date night with hubby before baby comes.
Thank you for letting me participate.