Dragoncrest Cliffs we begin in the dark and birth is the death of us
what do i do after all this survival?
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Ooc — Kermy
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The day is exceptionally warm, heating Thuringwethil’s dark coat and driving her to the water. She drives herself through the cavern and all the way to the other side, opening up to the ocean at low tide. Slipping through the wet corridor and pathway, out to the left and into the open were tide pools are filled with from withdraw of the tide. For a while, she filters through the pools and eating her fill of findings. Occasionally, she sets some aside to save for the puppies later, tucking them away in a cache up against the stony cliffs for later, where she lays to rest and dozes off.

She wakes to a loud clap of thunder, bolting upright and flinging sand and dirt in all directions. Blinking away the last little bit of sleep she picks herself up and straightens out. The sky is dark in the distance, a haze over the water proves rain is coming, and a bolt of lightning cuts the sky. Her nose lifts and she howls, letting the others know where she was with the oncoming storm, but she makes an effort to get back into the cavern. High tide has started to come in, splashing against the walls she needs to reach in order to come inside. The water comes up to her elbows and she braces herself, using the side of the cliffs as leverage but! The cache!

Thuringwethil makes a sudden turn to go back, front paws slipping on the stone beneath her feet and wiping out from beneath her. Instantly, the dark woman hits the rocky bottom and a wave washes over her, pulling the large, limp form. Another wave sends her back into the wall, and pulled back just a little farther, and each hungry pull of the ocean eventually takes her back and devours her.

The ocean pulls her into a lullaby, visions of wolves she doesn’t recognize by anything but their voices. Commanders of their past, having long since abandoned her in her lead and scarcely there in her dreams anymore. Heda can’t do anything to reach out to them for help, the sea cradling her in its grasp and taking her further into the depths. Her mouth opens to cry out, a muffled sound doesn’t break the barrier. They turn and only their backs are visible now and a few seconds later, nothing.

It’s not until a few hours later, and the storm has past, the she is spit out on sandy shores, unconscious.
Trigedasleng · Common
all that wanting, all that aching, all that capacity for love:
it never belonged to you in the first place
Messages In This Thread
we begin in the dark and birth is the death of us - by Antumbra - August 05, 2018, 03:38 PM