Author Topic: Night terrors [Anvil]  (Read 1354 times)

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Offline Haven

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Night terrors [Anvil]
« on: March 25, 2011, 05:46:41 PM »
Dying gasps of sunlight lingered over the lavender hills, shadows creeping in around the tree-trunks and birdsong growing dim. The queen, or future queen at least, was on the outskirts of the outskirts, the farthest she could go without actually leaving home. Any further and the forest turned to prairie, the violet to a dull and unclaimed green.

The queen, or future queen, was dragging a body.

Bloodshed from the battle was still splattered across that clearing, renegade and countrymen alike. But it was the enemy who, in the end, would be dragged unceremoniously into the dust that evening, removed like so many vermin from the once sacred land.

Haven had it in her to be a great and powerful queen. There was a natural air of dignity about her, a quiet charisma, but despite her golden beauty and regal bearing, there was something in her that was gritty, dirty. Through her reign, she would become known as a leader from the front lines, she considered herself above no task that needed doing, including the gristly removal of the now-cold corpses. Inaria's bold and glittering leader had her flanks speckled with red and tan, her paws weary but her muscles working well under the strain.

Dragging behind her a scraggled, off-white specimen, eyes gouged out by Kashmir's vengeful fangs, coat bloody, Haven shuffled onward. The paladin did not know that the creature's name was Ibis, did not know her story of loss, only knew that she was a blackblood and she had attacked them in their weakest hour. Knew that the nation had to be defended at all costs because this one couldn't fall on her watch, there would be no more invasions and no more rape-puppies and no more families decimated.

She dropped Ibis onto the ground when she felt she had gone far enough. She gave a last glance at the corpse but spared it no words, gave it no burial or eulogy. The wolf would be forgotten, as so many are, an extra in a motion picture about kings and dragons and knights.

Night was falling swiftly, and the paladin's ears pricked forward as she heard a faint noise ahead in the darkness, her tired yellow eyes narrowing at whatever creature approached.

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Offline Witch

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Re: Night terrors [Anvil]
« Reply #1 on: March 26, 2011, 01:39:54 AM »
ooc: Eve, I am sorry this sucks so hard. I'll try to make it more readable and... not-sucky when it is no longer 2 am.

----

Lush forest spread out in every which direction, alive and gnarled but not green. To him, the creature that dragged and lumbered through the clingy brambles, color faded into grey. Dripping, ashy, like scattered shreds of mouse fur.

The creature was some type of canine, probably wolf, with a ragged tan coat that seemed too big for his bones. His head lolled between his forelegs, neck and back arched in an uncomfortable slouch. Taking tentative steps, showing no discrimination between dry ground, brittle trigs and sloshing puddles, he  tripped ad stumbled and collapsed (only to half rise once more, beginning to walk before his back legs caught up).

He kept going, always, because somewhere far behind him was some terrible thing that cooed and crowed each time he slowed.

His name was Anvil, and he was very tired.

In the beginning of his trek, the starting point being the gritty Red Mountains, Anvil had looked mildly presentable. His fur was groomed and though he still woke up strange places and more than likely spent a great deal of time passed out in dangerous spots, he still had the air of a youthful thing at the mouth of a journey.

Months later had aged him. Or drained him. Countless encounters with gigantic bears, cats with enormous teeth, and even bloodthirsty members of his own kind had sapped away the initial gun-ho excitement. Living day to day on scraps and whatever he could spirit away from inattentive hunters did little to sustain a still growing body.

Now, running from danger no longer seemed an option. Even avoiding unfriendly company was too much effort. It wasn't that he didn't have the mental capacity to comprehend where he was going. Musky scent markers assaulted his sinuses yesterday. Paw prints infested the surrounding land.

Even when he smelled the blood, he didn't turn away.

It wasn't that he didn't care. It was that even turning direction called for more than he had left. If he did anything else other than robotic, emotionless walking Anvil would stop and not get back up. His path was leading him into the jaws of an unknown group of big teeth, and the only thought he could muster up in his fried egg brain was this: Oh well.

Anvil wandered on.

A few moments later, the smell of copper danced on the wind. It rubbed against him like anticipation, and he knew that, of course, somewhere ahead was death.

He came to a high ridge of thick brush and rock, obstructing his path, and Anvil had to strain and pull and tug himself over before landing with little grace onto the other side. Thorns and burs grabbed at his ankles like whiny children. Dirt clogged his nose and scratched at his eyes. For a while he stood there, shaking his head, slowly, back and forth, listening to the sound the things in his head made, and then a shadowy sensation crept over him. He raised his head and looked to the left.

Standing, not ten feet away, was a golden wolf. In the darkness, she shone like a cat's eye, and Anvil thought that any sensible mouse would fear a cat's eye. He must not, then, be a sensible mouse.

Death, who was so ironically sun colored, stood next to a stiff corpse. It was a shapeless lump in the grass that reeked of metal and fish. Anvil swayed on his unsteady paws, and suddenly his hip hit the ground. Supporting himself with his front legs alone, head drooping, he watched the Golden Death expectantly.

There's a dead person right there. What's wrong with me?

"Should I run?" He asked, though nothing in his voice suggested he was going to do much of anything, aside maybe fall asleep.
« Last Edit: March 26, 2011, 01:51:39 AM by Rip »

Offline Haven

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Re: Night terrors [Anvil]
« Reply #2 on: April 21, 2011, 10:41:18 PM »
((first rp post in a while, sort of out of the swing of things, so I apologize for lack of quality!))

If Haven was lit up like the sun, then the stranger was a pale reflection in scummy water, or a harvest moon all dusty, sickly yellow in the falling darkness. Her first instinct was to tense, fight or flight response leaning heavily towards option number one because running would lead him right to the center of Inaria like a fox to a burrow. But she did not attack, merely twitched cautiously at his sudden movement, because his sudden movement was only to halfway collapse.

"Should I run?"

The smallest of smirks probably made her look more like a madwoman and less like a queen, but her shoulders relaxed and she began to breathe again. Perhaps it was the stress of battle after battle, wartorn edges beginning to fray from a lack of restful sleep, but she had been a bit jumpy lately. It was hard to adjust from being on constant alert to taking in strangers to join your community. A tired but still-charismatic voice answered.

"Only if you're one of the bad guys."

Taking a single step forward, she tried to get a better look at the stranger. She wished she had Kashmir's keen senses, wished she could bore right into is odd little brain to see whether or not she should let him stay here near the borders, near her people. Every stranger was a potential Dragon, every wayfarer a threat against her home.

And she was beginning to love her home very dearly. She would not lose another one.

Now that she was closer she could see how his face looked sunken in, aged with worry. She saw how he looked the wrong size for his body, posture all angled and weak like a broken-winged bird or a tree limb bent back from a storm. But there would be no chances to be taken, for all she knew he had been sent by the enemy to destroy them once again.

But for all she knew, he could be innocent.

"You should know," She said, her tone holding a trace of warning. She decided that offering him a heads up was only fair. "You're on the borderline. We are tired of fighting here, but we will do what we must if you intend harm." There was no flick of the ear or tail, every inch of her as firm as her words were. There was one dead monarch in recent days. She didn't have any desire to be the next.

And then, almost as an afterthought, she added, "You look like you've been picked over by vultures. If you're so weary, why do you still walk? And why here?"

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Offline .Eve.



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Re: Night terrors [Anvil]
« Reply #3 on: May 15, 2011, 02:09:05 AM »
RIP ILU <3 <3 <3 <3

 
What do I do with all this love?
Do I wear it on my ankle?
Do I walk into sea?
                   Listen closely to your love
                   Try very hard to see.
What do I do with all this love?
Can I just put it away?
                   You can try to set it apart from you
                  But it will always stay.
My love is like an open wound
My love is full of tears and pain
What do I do with all this love?
                   Will you let it keep you sane?
My love is shaped all strangely,
it's the same shape as me.
                  There's no ugly love, I think
                   But I don't know everything.
My love's as heavy as the world
                   I know, it's very great and small
What do I do with all this love?
                   Open your hands and let it fall. .