10-31-2016, 03:58 PM
Panic rising, pulse throbbing, breath catching. Her head starts to swim, she begins to sway slightly. She feels faint, as if her blood is a run away train; hurtling down the tracks, crashing thunderously towards the barrier and all the while the breaks are helplessly screeching. Her body can't cope. It has to cope... I can't go back to sleep.
Blink. Pause. Between fluttering eyelids a figure moves. She tries to stand taller, but like a shed after a hurricane, her supports are on the verge of faulting. She begs her legs to comply, to hold her, to keep her strong.
He Earths her, dispersing the shock and static enough to allow her to focus. Pev lets her honey eyes trace over his frame, take in his features. She doesn't know this stallion, not from the blurred memory of a waterfall, not from the hanging humidity of the jungle, nor the rolling dunes of a desert. He is new, an unknown entity. She wants to reach out her muzzle, to touch his shoulder, feel the texture of his fur against her whiskers. She needs to know he's solid, not one of her mirages. It can't be a dream, you only dream about familiar faces someone once told me.
He speaks. His voice stems some of the panic, brings back an vague inkling of the calm, collected Queen she had once been. She tries to focus on his face, finds comfort in his eyes. It isn't that she finds him handsome, she's far too old to care about all that sort of nonsense, she just finds him curious, as perhaps anyone would find another living creature after solitary confinement. He's living, breathing, real. He's reassuringly real.
Maybe she isn't losing her mind, but she struggles to find her voice. She tries to speak at first, but finds her throat parched, crackling. All unused things will rot and crumble with time. She has become rusty.
“My dear, just your presence is helping more than you could possibly know,” she manages in cracked, muted tones. She tries a smile, tries to pull the wool over his eyes. I'm fine, totally fine... oh god no I'm not. “The last thing I remember... I remember I was in my desert. My daughter was by my side. I don't recall... how I got here. What year is it? Which direction is the deserts'? They'll be wondering where I went. I have no idea what I'm going to tell them,”
She groans, her head still splitting. This poor lad doesn't know what in heavens name he's walked in on, she feels for him, walking over to a crazy lady in a field and getting more than he bargained for.
Blink. Pause. Between fluttering eyelids a figure moves. She tries to stand taller, but like a shed after a hurricane, her supports are on the verge of faulting. She begs her legs to comply, to hold her, to keep her strong.
He Earths her, dispersing the shock and static enough to allow her to focus. Pev lets her honey eyes trace over his frame, take in his features. She doesn't know this stallion, not from the blurred memory of a waterfall, not from the hanging humidity of the jungle, nor the rolling dunes of a desert. He is new, an unknown entity. She wants to reach out her muzzle, to touch his shoulder, feel the texture of his fur against her whiskers. She needs to know he's solid, not one of her mirages. It can't be a dream, you only dream about familiar faces someone once told me.
He speaks. His voice stems some of the panic, brings back an vague inkling of the calm, collected Queen she had once been. She tries to focus on his face, finds comfort in his eyes. It isn't that she finds him handsome, she's far too old to care about all that sort of nonsense, she just finds him curious, as perhaps anyone would find another living creature after solitary confinement. He's living, breathing, real. He's reassuringly real.
Maybe she isn't losing her mind, but she struggles to find her voice. She tries to speak at first, but finds her throat parched, crackling. All unused things will rot and crumble with time. She has become rusty.
“My dear, just your presence is helping more than you could possibly know,” she manages in cracked, muted tones. She tries a smile, tries to pull the wool over his eyes. I'm fine, totally fine... oh god no I'm not. “The last thing I remember... I remember I was in my desert. My daughter was by my side. I don't recall... how I got here. What year is it? Which direction is the deserts'? They'll be wondering where I went. I have no idea what I'm going to tell them,”
She groans, her head still splitting. This poor lad doesn't know what in heavens name he's walked in on, she feels for him, walking over to a crazy lady in a field and getting more than he bargained for.