11-09-2018, 10:01 AM
BUT HOW COULD YOU KNOW THE SWEETEST SUFFERING
OF MOVING ON
OF MOVING ON
He can almost taste her fear as it extends far beyond her skin, reaching for him. Tendrils of her fright nearly thread through him and sink into his blood had it not been for a chance step back as he watches her absorb the damage already wrought on the meadow. A tumultuous storm of voices, shouts, and groans thickens the air and almost takes his voice away. His initial whisper is lost on the wind and so he had tried again to coax her attention, this time with success. An image of beauty is rare in this grayscale place where trees have been stripped naked and blood splatters across the dead earth. Tiphon desperately wants to embrace her, to pull her into his chest as a reminder that this isn’t the end, but he restrains himself as she uneasily closes the space between them. Like others, her eyes are bright and wide as she drinks in the sight of him for the very first time, but he isn’t certain why. In reality, he hardly realizes who – or what – he is. Ignoring her gaping expression, he quickly glances sideways as an infected horse stumbles past, droplets of blood speckling its muzzle.
”Plague,” he echoes after she confirms his vague suspicion. It makes sense now. His mind reels as to why – or how – but he doesn’t ask her. She is as much confused as he is. Neither of them know; they just want to survive, to escape.
A single step draws him closer to her, but they do not touch, not yet. He is weighing the situation, considering the options as his observations lead him staring briefly up at the ominous sky. ”We obviously cannot stay here,” he finally says when his gilded eyes fall back to her, following her hesitant introduction. ”We can find refuge, together,” the offer slips sweetly from his tongue, unable to bear the possibility of leaving her behind. Playing it over, he confirms to himself that he couldn’t. He wouldn’t.
There are so many like her – like him, that he won’t admit – that need help, that need a balm for their fear and pain.
Although limited, he can at least try.
Shifting his weight and ruffling the delicate feathers of his wings, Tiphon finally reaches forward, touching her with the velvet edges of his muzzle. ”It’ll be okay,” he hopes, ”and I will try to protect us both… I’ll try.” Although the fear of failure is climbing up his throat and hesitating his words, he pushes past with determination. It’s all he can do, all he can be. A light in the darkness, that voice said, and that’s all he wants to be.
”Plague,” he echoes after she confirms his vague suspicion. It makes sense now. His mind reels as to why – or how – but he doesn’t ask her. She is as much confused as he is. Neither of them know; they just want to survive, to escape.
A single step draws him closer to her, but they do not touch, not yet. He is weighing the situation, considering the options as his observations lead him staring briefly up at the ominous sky. ”We obviously cannot stay here,” he finally says when his gilded eyes fall back to her, following her hesitant introduction. ”We can find refuge, together,” the offer slips sweetly from his tongue, unable to bear the possibility of leaving her behind. Playing it over, he confirms to himself that he couldn’t. He wouldn’t.
There are so many like her – like him, that he won’t admit – that need help, that need a balm for their fear and pain.
Although limited, he can at least try.
Shifting his weight and ruffling the delicate feathers of his wings, Tiphon finally reaches forward, touching her with the velvet edges of his muzzle. ”It’ll be okay,” he hopes, ”and I will try to protect us both… I’ll try.” Although the fear of failure is climbing up his throat and hesitating his words, he pushes past with determination. It’s all he can do, all he can be. A light in the darkness, that voice said, and that’s all he wants to be.
TIPHON
STARLACE AND INFECTION
@[Madelyn]