February 27, 2018, 01:55 PM
The voice that sounded registered in his mind as having been familiar, but he could not place a name to it, and so he groaned in response. Words had never been his strong suit, and having been washed ashore with the clashing of waves had not spurred a more verbose nature from his roots. The voice knew his name and she seemed distraught at the sight of him, but his cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the sound. His molten gaze rolled upward to look at her, but he could not move from his splayed situation on the beach. The water came ashore and beat against his frame once more, causing the ghost to shudder violently against her touch. He could not feel his feet, but he knew how they worked and was furious that he could not make them move – none of his limbs would respond to his attempts.
Huffing and flopping his head against a new blanket of sand, Kierkegaard tried to fix his eyes on the young dark girl, but he growled with the pain that flushed through his body. He could do nothing but lay sprawled and gurgle out the remnants of sea wash that still lingered in his lungs and stomach. The ghost retched again and did not bother to move his head from it. Peering up at the young girl with exhaustion painted to his features, Kierkegaard opened his mouth in an attempt to speak but failed.
It was not long before another form approached swiftly and he felt a cool calm wash over him at the sight of her. For all the trauma, the wraith would never forget her name. Still, his current state caused him to feel useless and pathetic in front of her and he wished the waters would swallow him again to wash him home. She placed her narrow snout beside his ear and whispered an inquiry. He sloshed his head up, feeling her tug him from the brush of the water and breathed heavily. What had he been doing in the waves anyway? He wondered what might have drawn him out there, but he could not come to a conclusion. Instead of responding to her heated question, he retched again, turning the tossing of his stomach into a dry heave that felt like it was tearing his insides apart.
Huffing and flopping his head against a new blanket of sand, Kierkegaard tried to fix his eyes on the young dark girl, but he growled with the pain that flushed through his body. He could do nothing but lay sprawled and gurgle out the remnants of sea wash that still lingered in his lungs and stomach. The ghost retched again and did not bother to move his head from it. Peering up at the young girl with exhaustion painted to his features, Kierkegaard opened his mouth in an attempt to speak but failed.
It was not long before another form approached swiftly and he felt a cool calm wash over him at the sight of her. For all the trauma, the wraith would never forget her name. Still, his current state caused him to feel useless and pathetic in front of her and he wished the waters would swallow him again to wash him home. She placed her narrow snout beside his ear and whispered an inquiry. He sloshed his head up, feeling her tug him from the brush of the water and breathed heavily. What had he been doing in the waves anyway? He wondered what might have drawn him out there, but he could not come to a conclusion. Instead of responding to her heated question, he retched again, turning the tossing of his stomach into a dry heave that felt like it was tearing his insides apart.
old enough to know i'll end up dying, not young enough to forget again
« Next Oldest | Next Newest »
Messages In This Thread
i am not the only traveler, who has not repaid his debt - by Kierkegaard - February 20, 2018, 01:35 AM
RE: every vessel on its way down, takes with it the captains life - by Kaori - February 20, 2018, 02:18 AM
RE: i am not the only traveler, who has not repaid his debt - by Caiaphas - February 21, 2018, 06:30 PM
RE: i am not the only traveler, who has not repaid his debt - by Kierkegaard - February 27, 2018, 01:55 PM