08-10-2019, 11:24 AM
Tired.
He’d shifted a lot, recently, because he had only been discovering it last year, and every new encounter with another horse, environment, or literally any other creature had prompted him to either show off, explore his limits, or just match what he saw to enlarge his arsenal of ideas. Yet somehow in this battle, he’d used up all the extra energy he’d gotten off Noah’s magic while he grew in plant-form, and then some. Not all, but the Plague-symptoms he had were making all of it far worse, however slowly the disease was eating away at him.
Right about now, nestled deep in her red-and-white fur (he’d never noticed how roans had both coloured and white hair dispersed, but now he knew), he knew he was safe from her movements through the sky.
He also knew that he could not keep this up for long. Any new cough, and he’d be changing - involuntarily. So if he hadn’t thought ahead about what form he would take by the time he had to cough, all hell could break loose for the both of them.
It made him wonder how long they could both keep this battle up -he’d been shifting a lot, she had been flying from the start of the battle-, and what could possibly come from it once it ended?
The flea had bitten the mare a few times over the course of the last minute or so, crawling left and right over her skin. But the sickness stayed - no, it got worse over time. It had been a nice try, but apparently she had ultimate magical control over it, come with lots of experience no doubt - she didn’t get sick as he had hoped, nor did he get better. It was very well possible that she hadn’t even noticed him.
It was a funny thought, to think that they’d reached this impasse - to imagine her flying over the Plains, looking for him while all along she carried him with her. But he needed to do something. An actual attack, not his defensive, evasive maneuvers from before… because their impasse would otherwise just continue. Or, more likely, he’d eventually succumb and die from this weird disease - since he refused to shift into, for example, a huge dragon and snap her spine. Maiming or killing her was not the intent of this challenge.
Through his decision-making, the flea spasmed (it would have been a bloody cough had he been a horse, but the flea seemed to have different symptoms due to the different proportions). He became even smaller; Bacillus Anthracis - and quickly, purposefully started dividing himself on top of his latest flea-bite, creating spores as much as he could near the tiny breaches in her skin; they would be a direct access point for the spores to enter her bloodstream. They would probably reach the tiny veins of her lungs and infect her there; or, possibly, she wouldn’t notice in time and let it spread as far as her spleen. But he knew it was relatively safe to infect her with such a nasty disease; she would heal herself when she noticed, so he wasn’t worried it would cause permanent damage. It was probably only a distraction to her - but, at the very least she would need to focus on healing herself and not on accelerating his Plague. After all, anthrax would become a nasty infection should she neglect it.
The Bacillus sp. on Noah’s skin spasmed similarly to the flea, and now he was a chameleon. His sticky paws stuck to her back, he looked around bewilderedly - he had no control over where they both went, and no idea where exactly they were (and, the hallucinative effect of Noah’s sickness started to take effect by now). With no clue about what he was doing, he didn’t stifle the next cough - he was a monkey, and had only enough instinct to grasp the nearest thing he could get hold of (a wing, her mane, a leg - it didn’t matter as long as he didn’t fall). The monkey shrieked and coughed as Aodhán’s magic reacted to the plague again, and a cat scratched at the mare wildly trying to gain footing, but ended up (possibly harmless to her) in the field below. On a base level, he knew it would take all his energy to keep on shifting, but at this point he was becoming too delirious to do anything about it.
Cough. Cloud? Spasm. Hummingbird. Cough. Rhino. Cough. Sea-cucumber. Sneeze. Unicorn. Cough. Porcupine. Cough. Dandelion. WILL. Lizard. THIS. Goldfish. NEVER. Rattlesnake. STOP? Strawberry (but it doesn’t look edible at all).
Oh, fairies. He’s in way over his head. And this for trying to revive a land. He wonders if this is what it’s like to die. Is he going to die? It certainly feels like there is no end to this energy-draining sickness.
He’d shifted a lot, recently, because he had only been discovering it last year, and every new encounter with another horse, environment, or literally any other creature had prompted him to either show off, explore his limits, or just match what he saw to enlarge his arsenal of ideas. Yet somehow in this battle, he’d used up all the extra energy he’d gotten off Noah’s magic while he grew in plant-form, and then some. Not all, but the Plague-symptoms he had were making all of it far worse, however slowly the disease was eating away at him.
Right about now, nestled deep in her red-and-white fur (he’d never noticed how roans had both coloured and white hair dispersed, but now he knew), he knew he was safe from her movements through the sky.
He also knew that he could not keep this up for long. Any new cough, and he’d be changing - involuntarily. So if he hadn’t thought ahead about what form he would take by the time he had to cough, all hell could break loose for the both of them.
It made him wonder how long they could both keep this battle up -he’d been shifting a lot, she had been flying from the start of the battle-, and what could possibly come from it once it ended?
The flea had bitten the mare a few times over the course of the last minute or so, crawling left and right over her skin. But the sickness stayed - no, it got worse over time. It had been a nice try, but apparently she had ultimate magical control over it, come with lots of experience no doubt - she didn’t get sick as he had hoped, nor did he get better. It was very well possible that she hadn’t even noticed him.
It was a funny thought, to think that they’d reached this impasse - to imagine her flying over the Plains, looking for him while all along she carried him with her. But he needed to do something. An actual attack, not his defensive, evasive maneuvers from before… because their impasse would otherwise just continue. Or, more likely, he’d eventually succumb and die from this weird disease - since he refused to shift into, for example, a huge dragon and snap her spine. Maiming or killing her was not the intent of this challenge.
Through his decision-making, the flea spasmed (it would have been a bloody cough had he been a horse, but the flea seemed to have different symptoms due to the different proportions). He became even smaller; Bacillus Anthracis - and quickly, purposefully started dividing himself on top of his latest flea-bite, creating spores as much as he could near the tiny breaches in her skin; they would be a direct access point for the spores to enter her bloodstream. They would probably reach the tiny veins of her lungs and infect her there; or, possibly, she wouldn’t notice in time and let it spread as far as her spleen. But he knew it was relatively safe to infect her with such a nasty disease; she would heal herself when she noticed, so he wasn’t worried it would cause permanent damage. It was probably only a distraction to her - but, at the very least she would need to focus on healing herself and not on accelerating his Plague. After all, anthrax would become a nasty infection should she neglect it.
The Bacillus sp. on Noah’s skin spasmed similarly to the flea, and now he was a chameleon. His sticky paws stuck to her back, he looked around bewilderedly - he had no control over where they both went, and no idea where exactly they were (and, the hallucinative effect of Noah’s sickness started to take effect by now). With no clue about what he was doing, he didn’t stifle the next cough - he was a monkey, and had only enough instinct to grasp the nearest thing he could get hold of (a wing, her mane, a leg - it didn’t matter as long as he didn’t fall). The monkey shrieked and coughed as Aodhán’s magic reacted to the plague again, and a cat scratched at the mare wildly trying to gain footing, but ended up (possibly harmless to her) in the field below. On a base level, he knew it would take all his energy to keep on shifting, but at this point he was becoming too delirious to do anything about it.
Cough. Cloud? Spasm. Hummingbird. Cough. Rhino. Cough. Sea-cucumber. Sneeze. Unicorn. Cough. Porcupine. Cough. Dandelion. WILL. Lizard. THIS. Goldfish. NEVER. Rattlesnake. STOP? Strawberry (but it doesn’t look edible at all).
Oh, fairies. He’s in way over his head. And this for trying to revive a land. He wonders if this is what it’s like to die. Is he going to die? It certainly feels like there is no end to this energy-draining sickness.