[mature] Trekk.

[Noori]

Most days, most days stay the sole same
Please stay, for this fear it will not die
Down low, down amongst the thorn rows
Weeds grow, through the lilies and the vines

The feeling was like a subatomic black hole causing her being to collapse in on itself piece by piece, atom by atom. Sucked in, especially in her throat - a shortening, a lessening, a closing of what once blossomed. The infinite and endless spiral towards exhausted nothingness that never ended.

And how she hated it.

The warping of her flesh and bone left only a shell of a mare, though in truth, she did not spend much of her time as such. Spring girl, spring baby. A well aged fairy child, having never learned how to handle responsibility. In this new Beqanna especially, she had no place. She had nothing; no one; not even herself.

She spent her falls and winters in hibernation; needing only the light rays of the sun and occasionally some water to stay alive, the magical mare subsided into herself so greatly that, during the cold seasons, she shriveled up into an odd looking tree stump and took on the appearance of death. Yet come every spring, as the sun warmed her alabaster hide and dogwood flowers once more, the softly red-and-green glowing woman would be forced to awake.

This was one of those mornings. Her slumber had started to become interrupted, and subconsciously, in her dreams, she knew that spring was coming; winter was ending; and her reprieve from the terrors of reality was coming to a close. And today, it finally did. The boughs and branches of her figure began to unfurl from their knotted form of a disfigured horse lying on the ground. The flowers in her mane and tail opened and reached desperately for the thin sunlight. And when her eyes opened, their glow took many moments to return; it was as if the black hole within her was running along the wall, flipping on all the switches all at once, though she was simply incapable of processing all the information at once.

Thirsty.

That happened to be the magician's first thought, believe it or not. Of all the things she could recollect (Trekk, her sons and daughter, her parents, her kingdom, her life), water came first. And as she lifted her head from the muddy earth, she heard the rumble of a river.

Convenient. I thought ahead.

With a great, noisy, and utterly inelegant effort, Noori heaved herself on to all fours. As her stumbling, infantile steps brought her closer and closer to the water, small flowers began to grow behind her in a sweet little trail, and the grass was visibly greener. Usually, Noori did not allow this function of her magic to be apparent; but she was running on the reserves of the past summer, and her mind simply had to make sacrifices.

SPLASH!

There is something to be said here about the character of this little nymph; how exactly that thing can be said in a good light considering the circumstances, one cannot be certain.

Bobbing up from her cannon ball into the relatively deep river, Noori was a new mare. Her eyes shone like balls of green fire, and her bark began to unfurl itself from its tight grasp on her body, allowing the red and green glow of her form to perforate her alabaster skin. Reaching some higher ground, Noori threw back her head and shook vigorously, droplets of water raining down like beads of mana. In every way, she was at that moment a Victoria's Secret model, except with the unassuming air of a maiden.

And for a moment, the black hole ceased to kill her.

noori

Heads up: this thread accidentally turns into smut. And it is mature smut. Do not read on if that will offend you <3