08-18-2015, 09:10 PM
In my mind, I'm running round a cold and empty space
What could possibly be more terrifying? Zurry could have answered that easily. His master. An ally? Not likely. His master had worked alone, always. He made monsters far more terrifying than Belgarath, things that had literally made Zurry mess himself more than once and freeze in absolute terror. Things that had kept him awake for days, because every time he closed his eyes, he had seen it.
Dull, his senses were dull even when they should have been hyper alert. He knew but the lack of sleep, of food, of anything resembling normalcy had dulled him. So while he didn't hear the sudden crisp and crackling of leaves and twigs, of frost and ice inching it's way along the branch, he did hear the crackling that sent him skittering backwards and away from the sound. His eyes rolled, but he feels the cold in the air now, his face turned up towards the branches. They fall harmlessly in front of him, as his scare had taken him out of the range of the rest and he creeps backwards slowly as he watches it. And then his eyes are on the forest, narrowed as he peers through the brush.
The stallion is not hard to spot when he finally does, the light color of his coat is a like a beacon and his massive size enough to make Arzhur keep his eyes on him. "I will survive." He murmurs to himself, his hooves finally pausing when he has twice the distance between them than when he had been against the tree. "Go away." He says, his voice brittle, knowing it will do no good, knowing that he will come anyways and that there will be more pain. At least this was physical, at least this he knew he could handle as long as it didn't kill him. He knew that the pain would fade in time as his wounds healed, but he would have liked to try to avoid it in the first place if he could.
When he had been strong before and healthy, the stallion would have appreciated the challenge the other male presented to him. Now he was just broken and so weak that he would rather run away than live through another day or week or month of pain.
Dull, his senses were dull even when they should have been hyper alert. He knew but the lack of sleep, of food, of anything resembling normalcy had dulled him. So while he didn't hear the sudden crisp and crackling of leaves and twigs, of frost and ice inching it's way along the branch, he did hear the crackling that sent him skittering backwards and away from the sound. His eyes rolled, but he feels the cold in the air now, his face turned up towards the branches. They fall harmlessly in front of him, as his scare had taken him out of the range of the rest and he creeps backwards slowly as he watches it. And then his eyes are on the forest, narrowed as he peers through the brush.
The stallion is not hard to spot when he finally does, the light color of his coat is a like a beacon and his massive size enough to make Arzhur keep his eyes on him. "I will survive." He murmurs to himself, his hooves finally pausing when he has twice the distance between them than when he had been against the tree. "Go away." He says, his voice brittle, knowing it will do no good, knowing that he will come anyways and that there will be more pain. At least this was physical, at least this he knew he could handle as long as it didn't kill him. He knew that the pain would fade in time as his wounds healed, but he would have liked to try to avoid it in the first place if he could.
When he had been strong before and healthy, the stallion would have appreciated the challenge the other male presented to him. Now he was just broken and so weak that he would rather run away than live through another day or week or month of pain.
Just put your arms around me, tell me everything's OK.
Arzhur