09-30-2021, 01:23 PM
it’s a lonely road, I know,
and nothing ever stands between a bullet and your soul --
Sleeping in Tephra was proving to be difficult ever since the arrival of their new cursed king, and it was because of this that Rare found herself curled up in a grove of Sylvan trees just beyond the border. His nightmares did not touch her here, either because they could not breach the borders of a different kingdom, or she was simply too far out of reach. Whatever the reason, she was grateful for it. Grateful for a night of dreamless sleep, and trying to not feel guilty over the fact that she inflicts those very same nightmares on everyone around her, too.
I don’t do it on purpose, she had reassured herself as she picked her way through the eternally autumn wood, I’m not like him at all.
When she wakes with a start in the middle of the night she is not sure at first what caused it. But her heart is beating quickly in her chest, and when she focuses beyond the pounding of it in her ears she hears a voice, an eerie kind of song that seems to come from every direction. Slowly she stands, not even bothering to shake the dried leaves from her pale mane, instead leaving them nestled alongside the flowers that were woven there.
She was not usually the type to follow her fear, but tonight she does, and leads her on a fog-drenched trail to the edge of the forest. From the trees there dangles all kinds of strange things she has never seen before, or at least, not in this fashion.
She is stepping forward to further inspect what looks like a glowing skeleton—and she is reminded of her uncle and cousins that had once lived in Tephra, though they had grown tired of the nightmares and disappeared now—when something from a branch above snags in her hair. With a gasp and a shake of her head she tries to loosen whatever it was—two gray mouse ears, the insides an unrealistic shade of pink, fastened to her as a headband.
and nothing ever stands between a bullet and your soul --
Sleeping in Tephra was proving to be difficult ever since the arrival of their new cursed king, and it was because of this that Rare found herself curled up in a grove of Sylvan trees just beyond the border. His nightmares did not touch her here, either because they could not breach the borders of a different kingdom, or she was simply too far out of reach. Whatever the reason, she was grateful for it. Grateful for a night of dreamless sleep, and trying to not feel guilty over the fact that she inflicts those very same nightmares on everyone around her, too.
I don’t do it on purpose, she had reassured herself as she picked her way through the eternally autumn wood, I’m not like him at all.
When she wakes with a start in the middle of the night she is not sure at first what caused it. But her heart is beating quickly in her chest, and when she focuses beyond the pounding of it in her ears she hears a voice, an eerie kind of song that seems to come from every direction. Slowly she stands, not even bothering to shake the dried leaves from her pale mane, instead leaving them nestled alongside the flowers that were woven there.
She was not usually the type to follow her fear, but tonight she does, and leads her on a fog-drenched trail to the edge of the forest. From the trees there dangles all kinds of strange things she has never seen before, or at least, not in this fashion.
She is stepping forward to further inspect what looks like a glowing skeleton—and she is reminded of her uncle and cousins that had once lived in Tephra, though they had grown tired of the nightmares and disappeared now—when something from a branch above snags in her hair. With a gasp and a shake of her head she tries to loosen whatever it was—two gray mouse ears, the insides an unrealistic shade of pink, fastened to her as a headband.
-- rare.
