12-03-2018, 08:53 PM
Blood has caked and crusted around her nostrils. She is wracked by cough and fatigue, and fever is hot on her heels. This is punishment in the form of plague - punishment for her part in unleashing this pestilence upon the earth. Had she not heeded that strange call to come, to maim, to kill… but she had, and she had shifted her fluffy fledgling wings into thorny weapons that slashed and stung.
She knew that hers’ had not been the killing blow; just one in a myriad clash of hooves and teeth, magic and horn. Against him, the chestnut that had fallen beneath their frenzied onslaught. Now this, the excessive sweating and the labored breathing. The chills that possess her as she longs for the warmth of her master’s muscled side. Yet he is not there… Pangea is, the place that she had been commanded to - find him, kill him.
It echoes inside her, that sick slithery voice that she had instinctively obeyed. She knew master would be proud, beneath his anger at her disobedience and disappearance because she had defied him and master is not to be defied. Especially not by a little girl with eyes as brown as mud that has intrinsically mastered that look of obedience and innocence. Master might punish her, delicious little nips that made Shroud’s heart spark a little more inside her.
Or he might not. The plague might be punishment enough as it fells her step by agonizing step through this beautiful wasteland. She raised her head just enough to glimpse a bit of purple that caught her limited attention. Shroud stopped, grateful for the distraction and focused on him. She found his color and look fascinating despite the apparent grumpiness he used as a shield against them all.
@[Ironfire] <3