When you're immortal time doesn't seem to pass really. It ebbs and flows like the tide in an endless drift. Like the swing of the pendulum of a grandfather clock.
Tick tock.
The pine needles are gagging her. She opens her eyes before she realizes that she isn't breathing. The damn pine needles again have managed to wedge their way into her nostrils and throat but she isn't surprised but more annoyed at the itching and coughing that will soon follow just like every time she wakes from her hibernation.
Snapping and popping are the next sounds to echo deep in the earth as her bones begin to shift and the -thud thud- of her heart begins to throb deep inside the chest. She stirs now to push aside the warm blanket of more pine needles. Slivers of sunlight push through when she begins to emerge into the summer heat.
Cough cough.
She stands now after having risen from her slumber. How many years had passed? 5? 10? 50? From the look of things it had only been a few years but it never really makes a difference any way.
But let's examine our girl really quick so you can get the full visual.
At around 15.2, our Quarab mix is pretty average. She's typically a lovely buttermilk maiden that tends to darken in the cooler months when her winter coat grows in. Atop the fair skin is a lush black mane and tail and matching nails. She is a pretty girl looking only around five years of age despite being nearly a century and a half old. But her crowning glory is the pair of feathered wings that stretch from her spine to sun...so now, back to where we were...
After a rather unladylike coughing fit consisting of pine needles flying, Illinois can finally stand upright to stretch out those old bones. Pale blue eyes are able to clear and focus on the land and it's inhabitants. A small smile traces only the whiskered maw only briefly before she is seized by more coughing and sneezing.
How embarassing.
illinois
antidote x cuerva lista
