in my field of paper flowers; any

[Reuen]

Is it just me, Or do you wonder if we're put here just to see, He is questions, a myriad of words that spill from his blue tinged lips and into my ears. They are monstrous echoes that bounce from the empty walls of my head, filling me with a nothingness that numbs me even deeper than my wounds alone. My hollowed eyes watched him, half-lidded, so tired. Exhaustion wraps her encompassing fingers around me, like fine filaments slowly strangling me to a death far worse than my wounds could give. My veiny neck extends and my coarsely velvet muzzle touches the steed's shoulder. Presses into him and feels his warmth, his life. As I do this, he touches the crimson trail along my skin, instantly, ever so strangely, the wound feels cold, like ice, the numbing feeling leaving me and returning with an underlining pain. Pain. It marred my features, my body like crimson paint. Every muscle screamed, and yet I was silent. My mind blank, exposing the matter of blankness. My lips tugged into a grimace, eyes straining to remember, to remember anything. And yet it still was blank whiteness, dust and empty halls. I swallowed a breath in my throat, a gasp that fell from my lips, tightened my lungs to an inch of their existence. 'Reuen.' I say, and I swallow once more, my dark eyes lifting to gaze up at Jason. 'Much blood. Much pain.. Hot, sticky blood. Sharp, sharp teeth.' I shiver, every inch of my body gooseflesh. Without warning, my knees buckle. Exhaustion, I am not sure, it's something, something pulling me to the ground. My knees touch the soft grass and my body follows, a lithe mass of chocolate and crimson marked flesh stark against the heavenly green of the Gates. My nose lifts up and I whicker, my voice course, as crackled as splintered bark. 'Reuen. Ruin. Jason... Jason help? Pain stops.' How much heartache we can take, Without hanging from the tallest tree? - resident of the gates -