11-23-2018, 09:07 PM
The world is nothing but a spiritual haze around her. She hears nothing but the deafening whistle of wind, sees nothing but an endless white at every angle around her. Even the path that she had watched so intensely under her hooves, has vanished. Time is lost and her body has turned numb from the frigid air. All the pain of her life, her sickness, has seemingly disappeared into the nothingness that surrounds her and for a moment she experiences the euphoria of peace.
Here in her altered state, she sees her life. The beginnings of it, that day in Tephra where she was found by the navy tipped stallion Warrick. The giant tree that she had killed in the mere blink of an eye is before her again, just as it had been that day. She looks at it now with dull sienna eyes, an apparition to the moment so long ago. The child, she had once been, looking up to the pine with a sorrowed expression. That sigh alone tugs at the strings of her heart, woven tight with regret of that day, and so she too looks away with grievance.
That was the very moment that set the tapestry of her life. It set her on the wrong path in her young life, only to eventually be unthreaded by the hands of fate and show her the right one. Time and time again she fought through the trials of her life, and only in these moments had she found the will to go on. To fight for all she knew was right, and if she failed, at least she could say she didn't go down without one hell of a try...
This was another of those moments. When she reaches rock bottom and pushes through -to awaken beneath the boughs of another pine. This tree was nothing like she had ever witnessed before, and she knew trees. Its branches covered in delicate spindles of ice. Some large and some small but all held the same shape. Sienna eyes drag upwards to see even the tip top was ice, before her gaze flickers about to the others that are gathering. There are fewer than before but they all had the same task. To retrieve the icicles from the tree at the forefront of the heart shaped lake and return with them -still intact- to the Mountain. Then and only then will repair be brought to their world.
Her body shivers from the cold. Rustling a dry cough free from her lungs, blood spatters, staining the ivory of her forelimbs and white of the snow covered land. A plume of vapor lifts upwards, blocking her view for a short while. When the smoke clears she can see the variances in the dangling ice shards. Her thoughts immediately mull over all the conceivable ways she could carry one across the ocean water bridge and through the lands, back to the Mountain. Her eyes flicker to the lake, giving it a moment's thought. She could salvage a small icicle from the tree and coat it with many layers of ice water, but that would take a massive amount of time to freeze thin layers of water around it.
Again she looks to the tree, noticing others beginning to knock the daggers loose and nearly piercing another. A sharp gasp echoes from her lips at the near miss. She would be sure to watch for those. Still others pull and prod at the evergreen, ripping the branches from its trunk and weave the twigs together, fastening strange carrying devices. Her head tips in curiosity at this method and if it was truly necessary.
Soon those gathered begin to retreat, carrying their prizes to the mainland. She watches as a bystander, not strong enough to contend with the rest, and surely not stealthy enough to dodge falling spears of ice. With trembling limbs, the chill is setting deeper within her, and soon she decides she cannot wait any longer. Looking to the tree she decides that perhaps the biggest of the ice pieces would hold up the best. She could comfortably carry one in her mouth and if some of it should melt on her journey there would be at least some salvageable piece.
She locates the large icicle that had nearly gorged the other equine. It was the largest she had seen and it was well within her reach. With opened jaws she fits the girth of the ice between her teeth, gently firming her grip and pulling it from the snowbank. To have considered this comfortable was a misinterpretation, but it was her best option.
With the item secure between her lips she strikes out for the very coast that she had landed upon. Shockingly the storm had seceded and visibility was greatly improved. The distance to the shoreline was short, which leads her to wonder just how lost she had gotten in the blizzard. Her hooves still at the oceans wake, eyes gauging the shortest path to reach the grey washed land across the waters. The waves weren't as turbulent as they had been upon her arrival and for a moment she breathes easy.
Decided on a route, she steps into the chilled sea. With her body numb to the elements, she hardly notices the grip of death that threatens to consume her. Stroke after stroke, her weak body is pulled closer to Nerine. The strength within her was fading quickly but thankfully the shoreline comes not a moment too soon...
When she steps hoof on Nerine coast, she nearly stumbles in exhaustion. The air here wasn't much warmer than the island, which is good for only one thing -the icicle. Dropping it to the ground, she takes a moment to recollect herself. With a violent shake she attempts to dry her coat enough for her own sanity. Then with a few flexes of her jaw to relieve the tension from carrying the hunk of ice, she lowers her lips to secure it once again.
With ice in mouth and hooves to solid ground, she picks up what pace she can spare. She had a long distance to travel and a time limit to do it. Even with collapse threatening to consume her, she doesn’t think about the what ifs.
Nerine comes and goes with each length of her stride. Even at a choppy pace, she clears into Taiga before night is thick above her. A late winters breeze catches her just as she enters the redwood forests. She is thankful for the protection they give, a pay back for her long days spent renewing the woodlands to its former glory. It is here she feels most at home, and she remembers her journey to plant three seeds in tribute to the fallen kingdom.
Through a damp haze she struggles to remain conscious. Her muscles plead for rest as her lungs ache from the cold. A misplaced step sends her plummeting to the pine littered floor. Landing with a hard thud, the shard of ice is expelled from her jaws and sent air bound -falling to the ground mere feet away from her frail, near lifeless body.
The darkness wraps around her, cloaking her in a blanket of despair. Sickness plagues her skeletal form, leaving her a fragment of the mare she once was. The once deep red of her coat, that could be compared to the majestic red pines, is now bland and patchy. The ivory of her points is stained with earth and blood, a testimony of a life fought for. Her breathing shallows and the beat of her heart sputters. In this moment she recalls the most pure of memories from her life, the face of her son. Not the monster he had become, but the soft newborn eyes of the day he was born. The joy she had felt before her world went dark the first time she had nearly died. All she had ever wanted was to protect him, to love him. And in the end it was her undoing. These memories bring a single tear to leak from the duct of her eye and trail down her cheek.
She had failed him and now she has failed them all...
Here in her altered state, she sees her life. The beginnings of it, that day in Tephra where she was found by the navy tipped stallion Warrick. The giant tree that she had killed in the mere blink of an eye is before her again, just as it had been that day. She looks at it now with dull sienna eyes, an apparition to the moment so long ago. The child, she had once been, looking up to the pine with a sorrowed expression. That sigh alone tugs at the strings of her heart, woven tight with regret of that day, and so she too looks away with grievance.
That was the very moment that set the tapestry of her life. It set her on the wrong path in her young life, only to eventually be unthreaded by the hands of fate and show her the right one. Time and time again she fought through the trials of her life, and only in these moments had she found the will to go on. To fight for all she knew was right, and if she failed, at least she could say she didn't go down without one hell of a try...
This was another of those moments. When she reaches rock bottom and pushes through -to awaken beneath the boughs of another pine. This tree was nothing like she had ever witnessed before, and she knew trees. Its branches covered in delicate spindles of ice. Some large and some small but all held the same shape. Sienna eyes drag upwards to see even the tip top was ice, before her gaze flickers about to the others that are gathering. There are fewer than before but they all had the same task. To retrieve the icicles from the tree at the forefront of the heart shaped lake and return with them -still intact- to the Mountain. Then and only then will repair be brought to their world.
Her body shivers from the cold. Rustling a dry cough free from her lungs, blood spatters, staining the ivory of her forelimbs and white of the snow covered land. A plume of vapor lifts upwards, blocking her view for a short while. When the smoke clears she can see the variances in the dangling ice shards. Her thoughts immediately mull over all the conceivable ways she could carry one across the ocean water bridge and through the lands, back to the Mountain. Her eyes flicker to the lake, giving it a moment's thought. She could salvage a small icicle from the tree and coat it with many layers of ice water, but that would take a massive amount of time to freeze thin layers of water around it.
Again she looks to the tree, noticing others beginning to knock the daggers loose and nearly piercing another. A sharp gasp echoes from her lips at the near miss. She would be sure to watch for those. Still others pull and prod at the evergreen, ripping the branches from its trunk and weave the twigs together, fastening strange carrying devices. Her head tips in curiosity at this method and if it was truly necessary.
Soon those gathered begin to retreat, carrying their prizes to the mainland. She watches as a bystander, not strong enough to contend with the rest, and surely not stealthy enough to dodge falling spears of ice. With trembling limbs, the chill is setting deeper within her, and soon she decides she cannot wait any longer. Looking to the tree she decides that perhaps the biggest of the ice pieces would hold up the best. She could comfortably carry one in her mouth and if some of it should melt on her journey there would be at least some salvageable piece.
She locates the large icicle that had nearly gorged the other equine. It was the largest she had seen and it was well within her reach. With opened jaws she fits the girth of the ice between her teeth, gently firming her grip and pulling it from the snowbank. To have considered this comfortable was a misinterpretation, but it was her best option.
With the item secure between her lips she strikes out for the very coast that she had landed upon. Shockingly the storm had seceded and visibility was greatly improved. The distance to the shoreline was short, which leads her to wonder just how lost she had gotten in the blizzard. Her hooves still at the oceans wake, eyes gauging the shortest path to reach the grey washed land across the waters. The waves weren't as turbulent as they had been upon her arrival and for a moment she breathes easy.
Decided on a route, she steps into the chilled sea. With her body numb to the elements, she hardly notices the grip of death that threatens to consume her. Stroke after stroke, her weak body is pulled closer to Nerine. The strength within her was fading quickly but thankfully the shoreline comes not a moment too soon...
When she steps hoof on Nerine coast, she nearly stumbles in exhaustion. The air here wasn't much warmer than the island, which is good for only one thing -the icicle. Dropping it to the ground, she takes a moment to recollect herself. With a violent shake she attempts to dry her coat enough for her own sanity. Then with a few flexes of her jaw to relieve the tension from carrying the hunk of ice, she lowers her lips to secure it once again.
With ice in mouth and hooves to solid ground, she picks up what pace she can spare. She had a long distance to travel and a time limit to do it. Even with collapse threatening to consume her, she doesn’t think about the what ifs.
Nerine comes and goes with each length of her stride. Even at a choppy pace, she clears into Taiga before night is thick above her. A late winters breeze catches her just as she enters the redwood forests. She is thankful for the protection they give, a pay back for her long days spent renewing the woodlands to its former glory. It is here she feels most at home, and she remembers her journey to plant three seeds in tribute to the fallen kingdom.
Through a damp haze she struggles to remain conscious. Her muscles plead for rest as her lungs ache from the cold. A misplaced step sends her plummeting to the pine littered floor. Landing with a hard thud, the shard of ice is expelled from her jaws and sent air bound -falling to the ground mere feet away from her frail, near lifeless body.
The darkness wraps around her, cloaking her in a blanket of despair. Sickness plagues her skeletal form, leaving her a fragment of the mare she once was. The once deep red of her coat, that could be compared to the majestic red pines, is now bland and patchy. The ivory of her points is stained with earth and blood, a testimony of a life fought for. Her breathing shallows and the beat of her heart sputters. In this moment she recalls the most pure of memories from her life, the face of her son. Not the monster he had become, but the soft newborn eyes of the day he was born. The joy she had felt before her world went dark the first time she had nearly died. All she had ever wanted was to protect him, to love him. And in the end it was her undoing. These memories bring a single tear to leak from the duct of her eye and trail down her cheek.
She had failed him and now she has failed them all...
Kolera
Earth to Earth, Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust.
I imagine that because she was at the epicenter of the plague, the sickness is too far advanced in her that her making it through the quest is impossible. Especially with Zain taking her health in the Rhonen killing thread. However this ends I will be glad she participated
