All the other kids with the pumped up kicks
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Assailant -- Year 226
"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
Run faster than my bullet [Open]
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11-25-2017, 01:03 PM
11-26-2017, 11:52 AM
A blood stained hoof came down a scant inch from the white shell, scaring the little crab back inside. He had heard voices, and it seemed a better idea to head towards them than away. Away was back to the violent ocean. Toward others may be towards help. A vision rose before Bragi's blind eyes, of trusted friends becoming beastly destroyers. Too late though, to turn back. He knew he must be close now to those he'd heard. A tiny high pitched squeal had drawn him here, and the barely audible responses of a tired sounding mare.
He stopped as he thought he now stood nearby one of them. The little one. He lifted his head up a few inches, so that his nose no longer skimmed the sand. About where he figured the child's eye line might be. He attempted a wavering smile, uncertain of its effect. "He-hello." He grunted, clearing the dust from his sore throat. He tried again. "Is your mommy near by? Im in sore need of help." He whispered hoarsly. Had he known what he looked like, Bragi likely would not have even considered approaching a lone foal. He looked like something half drowned. Matted mane and tail were twisted with seaweed. Salt and sand crusted his once golden coat, turning it a muddy brown instead. And blood had dripped and now dried in a number of places. It coated his right shoulder, had trickled all the way down his leg. Both nostrils had bloody tracks leaving them, and a trail of scarlet wept down his foreard, staining his forlock with rust. Truly, any mother in her right mind would be aghast at such a ragged creature coming near her child. He breathed an exhausted sigh. He hoped, he hoped, that there would be forgiveness for him. He was so tired of fighting.
11-26-2017, 12:54 PM
@[Bragi] Sorry not sorry she's a snotty kid? Scyla will join them...eventually!
11-26-2017, 02:31 PM
He heard the quick shuffle of steroids through the sand, first away from him, then slowly back. He flinched at the unexpected tickle of a light breath on his nose, but he remembered himself, and returned the air as her velvet nose tapped his. He heard the high voice ask what had happened to him. A filly's voice. He could hear ferocious pride and notes of challenge in her question. He was reminded of Gull... a sick swooping passed through his gut. "What happened to me... I'd like to know too, lass." He answered slowly, uncertainly. There was so much he still did not understand.
He broke into a racking cough, feeling the last of the seas water pull from his abused lungs. It dribbled from his cracked lips, painting the sand at his feet a shade of pink where it mixed with drops of blood. She was circling him, and he realized that he truly must look ravaged now. If the outside matched how he felt inside, it was truly horrifying. No wonder she was curious. She must have finished her inspection, as she stood in front of him again, and pointed out her mother to his unfocused eyes. They were still the clear, crystal blue they had been... before. Not holding the tell-tale clouding his brother's did, there were no outside signs of his new disability. That did not change the fact that they saw only darkness and nightmares. He shook his head, not even sure which direction the girl was indicating. "I cannot see anything. My sight was stolen from me." He could not keep the bitter undercurrent from his voice, despite his not wanting to scare the girl. The last sentence was a growl. Of everything that had occurred, he resented that the most. It was salt in a gaping wound, and the more he thought about it, the worse his now ever present headache pounded. He took a deep, steadying breath. It was not the girl's fault. He could not be mad at one so innocent as her. Her last question surprised him, but it shouldn't have. He was familiar with how young minds worked. He gave a humorless laugh, thinking how best to answer the innocent question. "No. I'm what the sea monsters spat out." He finally ventured, musing on whether or not that was true. He wasn't sure how much it mattered. If this little one grew fangs and attacked him, maybe then it would. For now, he knew the demon island still gripped his mind. Reality was a long lost dream, and he felt that it would not take much more to push him beyond redemption. His breath shuddered in his painted chest, as he felt a lump grow in his throat. Tears prickled behind his eyes, as the sound of the waves grew tinny and painful. Forcing himself to breath, to ground, was a battle that he almost lost. Welcome to the island of lost toys... He bit his tongue until the taste of iron blood appeared, sharp pain bringing him back to the present. He could only breath for a moment, breath and cling to existence. The moment passed, however, and he still had things to ask. "Where are we? And who... who are you?" He asked with a note of hesitation. She was young, far too young to have been here when he first was. But perhaps he'd know her family. It was a chance. @[Harrier] Snotty kid is fine! He's a mess either way lol
@[Bragi] | ||
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