10-14-2018, 07:52 AM
(This post was last modified: 10-14-2018, 10:34 AM by Rajanish.
Edit Reason: put new HTML in
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Rajanish
Pangea.
The thing sounds huge and faraway and yet here they are. Or truth be told, they brought it towards them, and he’s rather proud of that.
He doesn’t know if the zombie eye was returned to the land’s heart (which is now nowhere to be found) by his actions, but it seems that it had been altogether enough, to let the heart be in the heart of the land again and for the land to rise from the dead. Like a zombie.
Truth is he never left, after that. He doesn’t know if Zain stayed or left, either; but he does know this is home as much as Taiga or Sylva are, no, it’s better. His blood is in this land, this land has been created by his father - it is the homest home he’ll ever have.
Too bad it caused so much pain and sickness inside him - but that’s a sacrifice he can make. Feverish, he roams the empty land, enjoying the feeling it gives him. He coughs up blood every now and then, and it seeps into the ground like a sponge sucking up rainwater. He’s glad he can feed the land, and if there was someone else he could sacrifice he’d do that too - oh, but hey!
A whitish form is atop a cliff, a young and healthy one. A much better sacrifice than his measly self. And so, the translucent bly shakily crests the cliff, slowly but relatively steadily, to meet her.
The thing sounds huge and faraway and yet here they are. Or truth be told, they brought it towards them, and he’s rather proud of that.
He doesn’t know if the zombie eye was returned to the land’s heart (which is now nowhere to be found) by his actions, but it seems that it had been altogether enough, to let the heart be in the heart of the land again and for the land to rise from the dead. Like a zombie.
Truth is he never left, after that. He doesn’t know if Zain stayed or left, either; but he does know this is home as much as Taiga or Sylva are, no, it’s better. His blood is in this land, this land has been created by his father - it is the homest home he’ll ever have.
Too bad it caused so much pain and sickness inside him - but that’s a sacrifice he can make. Feverish, he roams the empty land, enjoying the feeling it gives him. He coughs up blood every now and then, and it seeps into the ground like a sponge sucking up rainwater. He’s glad he can feed the land, and if there was someone else he could sacrifice he’d do that too - oh, but hey!
A whitish form is atop a cliff, a young and healthy one. A much better sacrifice than his measly self. And so, the translucent bly shakily crests the cliff, slowly but relatively steadily, to meet her.
No cost too great. No mind to think. No will to break.
No voice to cry out suffering.
No voice to cry out suffering.
@[Leokadia] @[Zain]