08-04-2020, 12:56 PM
<link href='https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Playfair+Display' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'> <style type="text/css"> .svedka_container { position: relative; background-color: #FCFEFD; width: 600px; border: solid 1px #000; box-shadow: 0px 0px 20px 1px #000; } .svedka_container p { margin: 0; } .svedka_image { position: relative; z-index: 4; width: 600px; } .svedka_text { position: relative; z-index: 6; width: 550px; margin-bottom: -400px; } .svedka_message { position: relative; font: 12px 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: justify; color: #1e4c56; border-left: solid 1px; border-right: solid 1px; padding: 20px 30px; } .svedka_name { text-align: right; font: 20px 'Playfair Display', serif; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 10px; padding-right: 10px; color: #1e4c56; } .svedka_quote { text-align: center; font: 12px 'Times New Roman', serif; font-style: italic; letter-spacing: 2px; color: #336a6b; border-left: solid 1px; border-right: solid 1px; padding-top: 30px; } </style> <center> <div class="svedka_container"> <div class="svedka_text"> <p class="svedka_quote">let my shadows prove the sunshine</p> <p class="svedka_message">Something awakens him.
The warmth of the volcano’s stone is pressed fervently against his side, the stallion’s head lifting wearily as he glances to the entrance of his cavern made of hardened lava and shining obsidian. There is silence on the summer wind that howls at the cave’s mouth and only the soft winking of stars greet him. Svedka’s eyes narrow in confusion - he is <i>sure</i> that something (someone?) had stirred him from his sleep. A voice, ordering him to rise. Cold dread curls into his stomach as he stretches his ivory legs beneath him to stand, the iron shackles that Kagerus had placed on his ankles weeks ago gently tinkling against his hooves. He fumbles towards the cave’s mouth, hoping that this sense of foreboding would be misplaced on wild, midnight thoughts and fears.
The wind stills against his face, the air growing cold as all around him seems to freeze into place in both sight and sound. He inhales with a quick breath, feeling the beast inside him pacing ferociously. Svedka closes his eyes tightly, tossing his head violently in hopes that the feeling would pass; but it does not, and when the stallion’s eyes open again, they are as black as onyx. The shackles fall away from a magic far more powerful than Kagerus’ own, shattering into pieces onto the warm stone floor. The change is immediate - Svedka falls away until only a cougar remains, with wild eyes and an angry snarl.
Svedka does not answer the call, but the lion does.
The mountain lion does not hesitate to make its way to whoever had been calling it; he arrives with his heavily muscled body thudding with each step his large paws press into the sand. The dark god sees easily past the lion’s skin and out of cruelty, helps Svedka regain control once again.
The palomino and white stallion staggers forward with a gasp as he shifts, his black eyes flickering to cerulean. He glances around wildly and fearfully, not understanding how he had come to be here and with so many others around him - none that he recognized. He hears the reason he is here and he nearly stumbles to the ground in defeat, a wail perfectly choked in his throat. He’s about to cry out, to leave, to do <i>something</i>, because he knows he is not meant to be here but is shocked into silence as others around him perish into nothingness and in ways he could not have begun to imagine.
Fear grips him tight, squeezing his throat shut, as his wide and unbelieving eyes come to rest on the grey stallion that seems to be orchestrating all of it. Their eyes lock and Svedka finds himself unable to move - to do anything - for he was next.
And then, Svedka finds perfect poeticism in the way his own lion’s claws shred him apart and how it’s warm mouth angrily severs his jugular, coughing and sputtering his own blood as he falls to the ground. The cougar does not stop there - it is angry and filled with hate for Svedka’s attempt to keep it as a captive - and it digs and claws until his insides are hollow, the beast’s howls a mournful song on the stagnant air of the beach. As death overtakes him, and thus the cougar as well, Svedka realizes he could have never imagined how empty he would feel.
The stallion stands in a world of greyscale, his eyes inexpressive as they blink wearily open. As if he was frightened to do so, Svedka takes a single shuddering breath that then exhales in a bleak grey cloud. He feels cold and immovable, glancing up and down the stretch of desolate beach with little to no reaction; as if his mind and soul were still reacting to his gruesome death and has not yet understood what has happened. <p class="svedka_name">svedka</p> </div> <img class="svedka_image" src="https://s15.postimg.cc/pwoma9yh7/svedka.jpg"> </center>
The warmth of the volcano’s stone is pressed fervently against his side, the stallion’s head lifting wearily as he glances to the entrance of his cavern made of hardened lava and shining obsidian. There is silence on the summer wind that howls at the cave’s mouth and only the soft winking of stars greet him. Svedka’s eyes narrow in confusion - he is <i>sure</i> that something (someone?) had stirred him from his sleep. A voice, ordering him to rise. Cold dread curls into his stomach as he stretches his ivory legs beneath him to stand, the iron shackles that Kagerus had placed on his ankles weeks ago gently tinkling against his hooves. He fumbles towards the cave’s mouth, hoping that this sense of foreboding would be misplaced on wild, midnight thoughts and fears.
The wind stills against his face, the air growing cold as all around him seems to freeze into place in both sight and sound. He inhales with a quick breath, feeling the beast inside him pacing ferociously. Svedka closes his eyes tightly, tossing his head violently in hopes that the feeling would pass; but it does not, and when the stallion’s eyes open again, they are as black as onyx. The shackles fall away from a magic far more powerful than Kagerus’ own, shattering into pieces onto the warm stone floor. The change is immediate - Svedka falls away until only a cougar remains, with wild eyes and an angry snarl.
Svedka does not answer the call, but the lion does.
The mountain lion does not hesitate to make its way to whoever had been calling it; he arrives with his heavily muscled body thudding with each step his large paws press into the sand. The dark god sees easily past the lion’s skin and out of cruelty, helps Svedka regain control once again.
The palomino and white stallion staggers forward with a gasp as he shifts, his black eyes flickering to cerulean. He glances around wildly and fearfully, not understanding how he had come to be here and with so many others around him - none that he recognized. He hears the reason he is here and he nearly stumbles to the ground in defeat, a wail perfectly choked in his throat. He’s about to cry out, to leave, to do <i>something</i>, because he knows he is not meant to be here but is shocked into silence as others around him perish into nothingness and in ways he could not have begun to imagine.
Fear grips him tight, squeezing his throat shut, as his wide and unbelieving eyes come to rest on the grey stallion that seems to be orchestrating all of it. Their eyes lock and Svedka finds himself unable to move - to do anything - for he was next.
And then, Svedka finds perfect poeticism in the way his own lion’s claws shred him apart and how it’s warm mouth angrily severs his jugular, coughing and sputtering his own blood as he falls to the ground. The cougar does not stop there - it is angry and filled with hate for Svedka’s attempt to keep it as a captive - and it digs and claws until his insides are hollow, the beast’s howls a mournful song on the stagnant air of the beach. As death overtakes him, and thus the cougar as well, Svedka realizes he could have never imagined how empty he would feel.
The stallion stands in a world of greyscale, his eyes inexpressive as they blink wearily open. As if he was frightened to do so, Svedka takes a single shuddering breath that then exhales in a bleak grey cloud. He feels cold and immovable, glancing up and down the stretch of desolate beach with little to no reaction; as if his mind and soul were still reacting to his gruesome death and has not yet understood what has happened. <p class="svedka_name">svedka</p> </div> <img class="svedka_image" src="https://s15.postimg.cc/pwoma9yh7/svedka.jpg"> </center>