02-27-2018, 05:42 PM
Out with the golden we sew, and the lower past that crawls.
Now, to the doorway you run, to the girl that's not lost.
Now, to the doorway you run, to the girl that's not lost.
Again, and again, and again - I'm always at this stupid river it would seem, even more so than I'm in my own home, with my own family. Sometimes I feel like I miss them, like I'm pissed at myself for being so drawn to this oddly occult area of Beqanna - but most of the time, I'm too busy dreaming to be so concerned about such normal things. Too caught up in my dreams, hallucinations, basically tripping on drugs that don't even exist, to care about what matters.
I curse vehemently when the apparition appears before me, his approach snapping me out of a dream where I had been devouring something... living. There's blood dripping off of my muzzle, and my mouth is full of fangs, fangs which are revealed as I peel back my lips in a snarl.
"Do you always sneak up on people like that?" I step closer to the apparition, wondering at how his figure (horse-like) does not smell so. It is nighttime, so it takes a moment for my nutmeg eyes to take in the substance of the stallion - and when I do, I gasp quietly. Leaves? Twigs? There's an odd, uncomfortable glow to his orange eyes. I'm suddenly stepping back, retracing my steps.
The clouds overhead part, and moonlight strikes my figure. Clouded leopard markings shimmer suddenly at the touch of the light, and I resent the added attention that must now be drawn to me. This stallion seems - it isn't - I shudder.
"What do you want?"
There's blood dripping down my mouth.
I curse vehemently when the apparition appears before me, his approach snapping me out of a dream where I had been devouring something... living. There's blood dripping off of my muzzle, and my mouth is full of fangs, fangs which are revealed as I peel back my lips in a snarl.
"Do you always sneak up on people like that?" I step closer to the apparition, wondering at how his figure (horse-like) does not smell so. It is nighttime, so it takes a moment for my nutmeg eyes to take in the substance of the stallion - and when I do, I gasp quietly. Leaves? Twigs? There's an odd, uncomfortable glow to his orange eyes. I'm suddenly stepping back, retracing my steps.
The clouds overhead part, and moonlight strikes my figure. Clouded leopard markings shimmer suddenly at the touch of the light, and I resent the added attention that must now be drawn to me. This stallion seems - it isn't - I shudder.
"What do you want?"
There's blood dripping down my mouth.
Kagerus
sweet nothing
@[Etojo]
dreamweaver