01-05-2021, 03:03 PM
take my soul & make it undone
be the one, be the one to take me home and show me the sun. i know, i know you can bring the fire, i can bring the bones. i know, i know you'll make the fire, my bones will make it grow.
Like the many people who call Beqanna home, Wishbone hasn’t experienced a night this long. The Afterlife had been gray, but there had been days and nights (though they had blurred together until she was spinning deeper into time) and the darkness had never been this dark. Even during cloudy nights in Tephra as a child — where the shadows might have felt darker than they truly were — she had felt safe with the molten glow of the lava streams to drive away the monsters.
This unfathomable, heavy, endless night is unlike anything she has known in life or in death.
Wishbone travels anyway, striding purposefully along the familiar routes that guide her out of Tephra. She is clothed in the shadows herself; her body is wrapped in a starless night with only golden lines across her face to serve as sunlight. As she walks, she hears the scratching of claws against wood and the skittering of an unfortunate animal struggling for its final breaths. The sounds of unfamiliar creatures cascade into her ears throughout her entire trip, and by the time she reaches the shadows of the Forest she is gritting her teeth against the grating noises.
None of the animals have attacked her yet, but Wishbone is prepared for when they do. Her metaphorical fingers trace the outlines of the bones beneath her feet with every step she takes, prepared to arm herself with the weapons of the Dead. So when she hears a voice call out, the tusk of an ancient mammoth crawls from the soil and drifts in the air at Wishbone’s shoulder.
The onyx mare steps forward easily and confidently, amber eyes peering into the eternal night until she picks out a pale shape. “I’m Wishbone.” Her voice is unwavering, despite the bone that lingers alongside her midnight-clad shoulder. “Who are you?”
This unfathomable, heavy, endless night is unlike anything she has known in life or in death.
Wishbone travels anyway, striding purposefully along the familiar routes that guide her out of Tephra. She is clothed in the shadows herself; her body is wrapped in a starless night with only golden lines across her face to serve as sunlight. As she walks, she hears the scratching of claws against wood and the skittering of an unfortunate animal struggling for its final breaths. The sounds of unfamiliar creatures cascade into her ears throughout her entire trip, and by the time she reaches the shadows of the Forest she is gritting her teeth against the grating noises.
None of the animals have attacked her yet, but Wishbone is prepared for when they do. Her metaphorical fingers trace the outlines of the bones beneath her feet with every step she takes, prepared to arm herself with the weapons of the Dead. So when she hears a voice call out, the tusk of an ancient mammoth crawls from the soil and drifts in the air at Wishbone’s shoulder.
The onyx mare steps forward easily and confidently, amber eyes peering into the eternal night until she picks out a pale shape. “I’m Wishbone.” Her voice is unwavering, despite the bone that lingers alongside her midnight-clad shoulder. “Who are you?”
@[Mazikeen]
@[The Monsters] Roll for Wishbone's light beam emission, please?
TEGteg [-BONE-BENDING-][-REGENERATION-][LIGHT BEAM EMISSION][IMMORTALITY][wings]