Bound for trouble from the start
I've been walking through this old world in the dark
The change into fall also brings a heightened need to be near her. With her. He wants to occupy her time, occupy her body. The few snippets of sleep he is able to catch is now consumed by his desire for the champagne stained General. The feeling of feathers tickling his sides as he moves on top of her, the soft ragged gasps of emotion that betray her feelings. Obviously he avoids sleep, these dreams just as anxiety ridden as his nightmares. He has walked all night, leaving the ashen lands of Tephra and following the newer paved roads to the Meadow. He has plenty of time to think, too much time. He needs a distraction.
Pale sunlight filters into the open meadow as night fades to day. His pace is constant, trotting with no purpose as hooves churn over browned grass. His anxiety is briefly forgotten though as something is thrusted a few feet before him. It literally appears out of nowhere, as if pushed out of a portal that he can’t see by invisible hands. It crumples into a puddle of mud, almost lifeless.
Hesitantly he takes a single step forward. It’s large and furry, gasping for breath. Slowly it stands up with a cry of Jesus God Almighty, and he freezes. A wolf. A large white wolf. He barely realizes what he’s doing, the first time he has shifted so quickly with little pain. The bear instantly takes over, his flaxen mane elongating as white fur scours his body. Hooves turn to large paws, his muzzle extending as sharp teeth protrude through his gum line. Only the single gold flecked eye remains of the horse that had once been and it watches the wolf warily, suspicious.
The bear that’s been unleashed surprisingly does nothing, there’s no bloodlust here. Instead he feels a thread beneath himself and the creature he has become, they both feel it. The magic, the rememberance of how they came to be tied together. The wolf seems out of it, looking about blearily as if it didn’t belong here. A soft call of a bird behind it makes the predator jump and flinch, very unlike a hunter to do such a thing.
Slowly the bear shuffles forward, cautious. Even as he comes closer, the wolf is morphing, changing. Turning into a horse. The bear also retreats but within it’s cage inside his ribs, it still reaches it’s claws out as if to grasp the cobwebs of magic that linger about Crevan. The strange horse seems unaware of him, talking to himself. His own lips tug slightly into a frown. ”I dare say you’re alive.” There’s a hint of recognition in the depth of the lone eye, it’s not one that makes him happy. ”And probably lucky to be so.”
Ledger