11-20-2017, 11:58 PM
<center><div style="width:500px;background:#42425b;padding-bottom:10px;padding-top:3px;border-radius:50px;"><img src="http://38.media.tumblr.com/1cb7c100466f94ed4604add831f0c619/tumblr_n05abcLpo51sxtsggo1_r3_500.gif" width="496" style="border-radius:50px 50px 0px 0px;"><div style="position:relative;width:600px;height:50px;bottom:50px;margin-bottom:-50px;background-image:-moz-linear-gradient(top, rgb(183,197,214) 0%, rgb(183,197,214) 100%);background-image:-webkit-gradient(linear, left top, left bottom, color-stop(0%, rgb(183,197,214)), color-stop(100%, rgb(183,197,214))));background-image:-ms-linear-gradient(top, rgb(183,197,214) 0%, rgb(183,197,214) 100%);"></div>
<div style="position: relative;top: 5px;font-family: 'Cinzel', serif;color: #bcb5b2;font-size: 18px;"> <link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cinzel' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>lady, runnin' away to the riptide</div>
<div style="position: relative;top: 0px;font-family: 'Cinzel', serif;color: #bcb5b2;font-size: 21px;"> <link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cinzel' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>taken away to the dark side</div>
<div style="position: relative;top: 10px;width:450px;font:14px times;color:#85848b;text-align:justify;padding-bottom:0px;padding-top:0px;">
<p><i><s>Run and Hide - and Birds?</i></s>
Sloene runs and runs, and the trees grow taller and taller around her, she gradually stops hearing his heavy footfalls behind her. Instead they are replaced by the increasing chatter of birds, somewhere high above her in the trees. Not a moment too soon, anyway, because she is exhausted and she can’t run any farther. Her body feels heavy and sore as she slows to a trot, then a walk, peering up into the branches of the trees above her. The smell is tangy-sweet, familiar from the breezes which had blown across the Shore since she woke up here.
The birds are bright and noisy overhead, and she smiles nostalgically. They remind her of her galaxy-herd of pseudo siblings. They had always been bright, and bold, and noisy. Sloene nibbles on a few fallen fruits as she meanders, looking for a place to hide. The trees are growing denser and denser, trunks brushing her sides now often as she walks, but there is nowhere to <i>hide</i>. Still, it feels safer here in the deepening gloom than out there where the trees are few and far between. She’s black now, after all, and she will blend in the shadows.
<i><s>Creepy Crawly Doom</i></s>
She considers turning back when the trees start to open up once more, but the gloom is still deep and Black is somewhere behind her, and the others behind him. She can’t afford to turn back but she is nearly sleepwalking in the forward movement, continually reminding herself to open her silver eyes and press on. Quiet falls, as she stops hearing the birds as well. The only sound is her own hooves on the firm ground.
The girl is suddenly awake when she takes another step and something squishes beneath her hoof. Her eyes snap all the way open and she looks down, revolted at the sight of the huge maggots crawling all over the fruit and the <i>dead</i> birds - that explains the quiet. They are unreasonably large, and her skin crawls, and she steps backwards, but a branch crunches underfoot and suddenly they are on her; she shakes a few off but the next few have already latched on, little pin-pricks of pain. Sloene bucks, squeals, fails to dislodge more than can reattach quickly. She spins around as best as the trees will allow, weighed down by more and more of the maggots attaching themselves to her unfamiliar black hide.
This is the end, she supposes, as her knees buckle. This is how she will die, and it is worse than the idea of being murdered by her new family. She can feel them taking bites out of her, and the only reason she isn’t bleeding all over is because there is not part of her not coverages in hungry worms.
<i><s>A Timely Rescue (Kinda)</i></s>
But then the gloom becomes true dark in the shadow of something which emits a nails-on-a-chalkboard screech, and the maggots begin to fall away from her body, letting out their own tiny screams of - what? Fear? - and her stomach drops sickly as she is snatched from the ground, her own cry of fear stolen by the wind. From between the talons carrying her up-up-and-away, Sloene can see that her savior is a blue, red, and green macaw. Or something that resembles a macaw except - you know, unbelievably large.
She sobs, just once, in relief and fear.
The land falls away beneath them and Sloene can see now it’s an island - and the bird is taking them away, headed out across the expanse of water. She takes a deep breath, hope rising in her chest - perhaps her savior is taking her home! Home sounds nice. She starts to relax, only for every muscle in her body to stiffen, pain screaming from the hundreds (is it hundreds? Thousands?) of tiny cuts on her body as she feels blood seep into her black coat and the voice is everywhere all at once and it hurts her ears, though that pales in comparison to the state of her body. <i>’Meddling fool,’</i> it shrieks and Sloene tries to see the macaw’s face, trying to determine if it is the bird who speaks, so she is looking up at that huge black beak when the jet of fire burns past, and the macaw falls and then catches itself, wheeling back towards the island.
‘No!’ Sloene wants to shout, ‘No, don’t take me back there!’ But she doesn’t, because she is afraid to distract the bird as they flee the dragon - and anyway, if it drops her in the ocean, she is too tired to swim anywhere, if there is even anywhere close enough to swim to. They are over the beach now, lower and lower, and Sloene watches the dark dragon gaining on them.
Until she’s falling.
The macaw has dropped her, nearly on the ground, and then it is gone and the dragon is following, leaving Sloene to her own devices. She gets to her feet, shaking the dry sand from her dark coat, and takes a deep breath. Nothing broken - maybe some bruised ribs, on top of the hundreds of open cuts. Nothing debilitating. She watches the macaw drop half-burned feathers in a trail over the trees as the bird and dragon disappear, and with it her hope of escape. Back to the hiding plan, then.
<i><s>This. Again.</i></s>
Except it’s too late to hide. They have appeared on the shore, her so-called family and friends, just at the edge of the trees. The seven of them, Green and Black in the lead, Red and Yellow hanging the furthest back.
They don’t look any friendlier now than they did earlier.
Green and Black are approaching with deadly purpose and she knows she cannot fight them. She is smaller, and weaker, and there are too many of them. Her only chance is that the macaw will evade or defeat the dragon, and that it will come back for her. She was worth rescuing once, surely she is worth finishing the job. Sloene turns as sharply as possible in the sand and takes off, following the trail of bright feathers left behind when the bird fled.
</div>
<div style="position: relative;top: 10px;font-family: 'Cinzel Decorative', cursive;color: #bcb5b2;font-size: 40px;"><link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cinzel+Decorative:900' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>SL<font color=86abe5>O</font>ENE</div>
<div style="position: relative;top: -5px;padding-left: 185px;font-family: 'Cinzel', serif;color: #bcb5b2;font-size: 14px;"><link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cinzel' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>I've got a lump in my throat</div>
<div style="position: relative;top: -10px;padding-left: 50px;font-family: 'Cinzel', serif;color: #bcb5b2;font-size: 16px;"><link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cinzel' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>cause you're gonna sing the words wrong</div></div></center>
<div style="position: relative;top: 5px;font-family: 'Cinzel', serif;color: #bcb5b2;font-size: 18px;"> <link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cinzel' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>lady, runnin' away to the riptide</div>
<div style="position: relative;top: 0px;font-family: 'Cinzel', serif;color: #bcb5b2;font-size: 21px;"> <link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cinzel' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>taken away to the dark side</div>
<div style="position: relative;top: 10px;width:450px;font:14px times;color:#85848b;text-align:justify;padding-bottom:0px;padding-top:0px;">
<p><i><s>Run and Hide - and Birds?</i></s>
Sloene runs and runs, and the trees grow taller and taller around her, she gradually stops hearing his heavy footfalls behind her. Instead they are replaced by the increasing chatter of birds, somewhere high above her in the trees. Not a moment too soon, anyway, because she is exhausted and she can’t run any farther. Her body feels heavy and sore as she slows to a trot, then a walk, peering up into the branches of the trees above her. The smell is tangy-sweet, familiar from the breezes which had blown across the Shore since she woke up here.
The birds are bright and noisy overhead, and she smiles nostalgically. They remind her of her galaxy-herd of pseudo siblings. They had always been bright, and bold, and noisy. Sloene nibbles on a few fallen fruits as she meanders, looking for a place to hide. The trees are growing denser and denser, trunks brushing her sides now often as she walks, but there is nowhere to <i>hide</i>. Still, it feels safer here in the deepening gloom than out there where the trees are few and far between. She’s black now, after all, and she will blend in the shadows.
<i><s>Creepy Crawly Doom</i></s>
She considers turning back when the trees start to open up once more, but the gloom is still deep and Black is somewhere behind her, and the others behind him. She can’t afford to turn back but she is nearly sleepwalking in the forward movement, continually reminding herself to open her silver eyes and press on. Quiet falls, as she stops hearing the birds as well. The only sound is her own hooves on the firm ground.
The girl is suddenly awake when she takes another step and something squishes beneath her hoof. Her eyes snap all the way open and she looks down, revolted at the sight of the huge maggots crawling all over the fruit and the <i>dead</i> birds - that explains the quiet. They are unreasonably large, and her skin crawls, and she steps backwards, but a branch crunches underfoot and suddenly they are on her; she shakes a few off but the next few have already latched on, little pin-pricks of pain. Sloene bucks, squeals, fails to dislodge more than can reattach quickly. She spins around as best as the trees will allow, weighed down by more and more of the maggots attaching themselves to her unfamiliar black hide.
This is the end, she supposes, as her knees buckle. This is how she will die, and it is worse than the idea of being murdered by her new family. She can feel them taking bites out of her, and the only reason she isn’t bleeding all over is because there is not part of her not coverages in hungry worms.
<i><s>A Timely Rescue (Kinda)</i></s>
But then the gloom becomes true dark in the shadow of something which emits a nails-on-a-chalkboard screech, and the maggots begin to fall away from her body, letting out their own tiny screams of - what? Fear? - and her stomach drops sickly as she is snatched from the ground, her own cry of fear stolen by the wind. From between the talons carrying her up-up-and-away, Sloene can see that her savior is a blue, red, and green macaw. Or something that resembles a macaw except - you know, unbelievably large.
She sobs, just once, in relief and fear.
The land falls away beneath them and Sloene can see now it’s an island - and the bird is taking them away, headed out across the expanse of water. She takes a deep breath, hope rising in her chest - perhaps her savior is taking her home! Home sounds nice. She starts to relax, only for every muscle in her body to stiffen, pain screaming from the hundreds (is it hundreds? Thousands?) of tiny cuts on her body as she feels blood seep into her black coat and the voice is everywhere all at once and it hurts her ears, though that pales in comparison to the state of her body. <i>’Meddling fool,’</i> it shrieks and Sloene tries to see the macaw’s face, trying to determine if it is the bird who speaks, so she is looking up at that huge black beak when the jet of fire burns past, and the macaw falls and then catches itself, wheeling back towards the island.
‘No!’ Sloene wants to shout, ‘No, don’t take me back there!’ But she doesn’t, because she is afraid to distract the bird as they flee the dragon - and anyway, if it drops her in the ocean, she is too tired to swim anywhere, if there is even anywhere close enough to swim to. They are over the beach now, lower and lower, and Sloene watches the dark dragon gaining on them.
Until she’s falling.
The macaw has dropped her, nearly on the ground, and then it is gone and the dragon is following, leaving Sloene to her own devices. She gets to her feet, shaking the dry sand from her dark coat, and takes a deep breath. Nothing broken - maybe some bruised ribs, on top of the hundreds of open cuts. Nothing debilitating. She watches the macaw drop half-burned feathers in a trail over the trees as the bird and dragon disappear, and with it her hope of escape. Back to the hiding plan, then.
<i><s>This. Again.</i></s>
Except it’s too late to hide. They have appeared on the shore, her so-called family and friends, just at the edge of the trees. The seven of them, Green and Black in the lead, Red and Yellow hanging the furthest back.
They don’t look any friendlier now than they did earlier.
Green and Black are approaching with deadly purpose and she knows she cannot fight them. She is smaller, and weaker, and there are too many of them. Her only chance is that the macaw will evade or defeat the dragon, and that it will come back for her. She was worth rescuing once, surely she is worth finishing the job. Sloene turns as sharply as possible in the sand and takes off, following the trail of bright feathers left behind when the bird fled.
</div>
<div style="position: relative;top: 10px;font-family: 'Cinzel Decorative', cursive;color: #bcb5b2;font-size: 40px;"><link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cinzel+Decorative:900' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>SL<font color=86abe5>O</font>ENE</div>
<div style="position: relative;top: -5px;padding-left: 185px;font-family: 'Cinzel', serif;color: #bcb5b2;font-size: 14px;"><link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cinzel' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>I've got a lump in my throat</div>
<div style="position: relative;top: -10px;padding-left: 50px;font-family: 'Cinzel', serif;color: #bcb5b2;font-size: 16px;"><link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cinzel' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>cause you're gonna sing the words wrong</div></div></center>