08-14-2020, 06:24 PM
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She thought she had known death. In her dreams, she had watched her life end, with the magic of that precarious gift of her mother's. She had seen, and felt, herself dying enough times to believe herself invincible until the series of events that came before it took place. But such a gift was petty witchcraft in the shadow of Carnage's magic.
Humbled, she listens.
She listens to his voice, even as the buzzing makes her wince.
He commands, and she obeys. She steps into the fog, but her obedience is no longer a choice. There was no other option now. With flattened ears and sharp eyes, she warily wades through the mists, holding her breath as she prepares for whatever terror is surely waiting for her. It's too still. The fog twist with a surreal beauty in a way that makes the terrible buzzing all the more offensive, but her progress down the beach is uncontested. That is, until the unpleasant echo of his laughter rattles in her head, morphing into the heckling yips of wolves.
With a snort she plunges into a gallop, trying to reach the cliff before the pack has a chance to encircle her, but the wolves are eager for the hunt
They chase her. They sink their teeth into the flesh above her knee, sending rivulets of dark-cherry red done her once white leg. She kicks and runs, and kicks again. One strike hits true, and with the sound of their comrade's skull breaking, the wolves disperse. But they are not gone for long, and soon they appear again through the fog to gallop beside her. A dark wolf comes astride of her, his wild eyes locking onto her throat, and she knows she needs to fight back. She doesn't want to use her magic, but her skin begins to glow regardless, and as he launches towards her, she is ready.
With a guttural yell, she whips her head in his direction - teeth bared and light pooling on her brow. She commands the light in that instinctual way she had never had to learn, already counting him for dead. But the blast doesn't behave that way it should, the way it always had. There is no lethal beam of light to split her attacker in two. The power of the blast backfires, sending the teal mare tumbling backward. Her body is tossed like a cat's dead mouse, but by fate or stupid luck, it falls still just before the cliff's edge. Her tail drapes over the ledge, causing her stomach to churn as she realizes this, and she pulls it tight to her haunches as her head lifts to look back over her shoulder. With a groan, Celest collects herself. Carefully, she gathers her legs to stand, despite her bodies pleading to be allowed to be still, and turns to face the terrible, other-worldly sound.
</p><p class="c3l_quote">I'm not a girl, I'm a storm with skin</p></div></center>
She thought she had known death. In her dreams, she had watched her life end, with the magic of that precarious gift of her mother's. She had seen, and felt, herself dying enough times to believe herself invincible until the series of events that came before it took place. But such a gift was petty witchcraft in the shadow of Carnage's magic.
Humbled, she listens.
She listens to his voice, even as the buzzing makes her wince.
He commands, and she obeys. She steps into the fog, but her obedience is no longer a choice. There was no other option now. With flattened ears and sharp eyes, she warily wades through the mists, holding her breath as she prepares for whatever terror is surely waiting for her. It's too still. The fog twist with a surreal beauty in a way that makes the terrible buzzing all the more offensive, but her progress down the beach is uncontested. That is, until the unpleasant echo of his laughter rattles in her head, morphing into the heckling yips of wolves.
With a snort she plunges into a gallop, trying to reach the cliff before the pack has a chance to encircle her, but the wolves are eager for the hunt
They chase her. They sink their teeth into the flesh above her knee, sending rivulets of dark-cherry red done her once white leg. She kicks and runs, and kicks again. One strike hits true, and with the sound of their comrade's skull breaking, the wolves disperse. But they are not gone for long, and soon they appear again through the fog to gallop beside her. A dark wolf comes astride of her, his wild eyes locking onto her throat, and she knows she needs to fight back. She doesn't want to use her magic, but her skin begins to glow regardless, and as he launches towards her, she is ready.
With a guttural yell, she whips her head in his direction - teeth bared and light pooling on her brow. She commands the light in that instinctual way she had never had to learn, already counting him for dead. But the blast doesn't behave that way it should, the way it always had. There is no lethal beam of light to split her attacker in two. The power of the blast backfires, sending the teal mare tumbling backward. Her body is tossed like a cat's dead mouse, but by fate or stupid luck, it falls still just before the cliff's edge. Her tail drapes over the ledge, causing her stomach to churn as she realizes this, and she pulls it tight to her haunches as her head lifts to look back over her shoulder. With a groan, Celest collects herself. Carefully, she gathers her legs to stand, despite her bodies pleading to be allowed to be still, and turns to face the terrible, other-worldly sound.
</p><p class="c3l_quote">I'm not a girl, I'm a storm with skin</p></div></center>
![[Image: celest_by_cowgirlconrad-dcolc1l.png]](https://orig00.deviantart.net/bc93/f/2018/277/3/d/celest_by_cowgirlconrad-dcolc1l.png)