March 31, 2014, 12:17 PM
Larch has a slash across her cheek, a head wound and an injured back leg. Whee, injuries :D Hope it's okay if I reply now!
Larch lay trembling in her encasement of snow and rock, barely aware that she was still breathing – and then only aware because she could still feel biting, stinging cold in every limb. Her fur was sodden and dirtied, her cheek slit open by a falling shard of rock or ice – it hardly mattered which. All in all, the once proud fighter looked as if she had given up the fight. Who would find her here when she knew only a couple of faces within the Vale and they might not even know she had returned?
Something in the darkness made the half-frozen female's head ache and a sickening feeling stirred in her stomach. Her prison was moving, chunks of it flying away to let in a light which felt so bright and painful that Larch felt as if she had never seen true light before. This brightness was so pure and she was so lacking in warmth that she felt as if she were looking straight into a strike of lightning.
A weight at her side fell – or flew – away, and Larch whimpered, turning her head as far as she was able to in an effort to shut out the light. Her body begged to be left where it was, soaking and crumpled, but she hadn't come back to Northstar Vale to simply give up. It was a mammoth of a task to move at all, and when the honey-pelted woman finally did try to crawl through the opening made by her leader she found she was stopped; impeded by a weight on her left hindleg.
Larch let out a gasp of pain as the mild air hit her face, her front paws scrabbling blindly at the snow. It was no good: the she-wolf, with all the determination she possessed, was pinned down by a blunt, heavy rock. Her eyes flickered open, bright with fear, and she cast a pleading look towards the frantic-looking form of her leader, Raheerah, who had put rules in place to keep them out of trouble. Larch had always had a knack for getting into trouble, rules or not. This time, though, trouble had found her – and then Raheerah had. How many times was she to be lost and found again? A whimper passed her lips as she considered letting her head flop back down to the peace of numbness, but the Warrior's breath was on her, furious in its exertions, and she had promised she would be useful. A bag of bones was no use to anyone.
Larch lay trembling in her encasement of snow and rock, barely aware that she was still breathing – and then only aware because she could still feel biting, stinging cold in every limb. Her fur was sodden and dirtied, her cheek slit open by a falling shard of rock or ice – it hardly mattered which. All in all, the once proud fighter looked as if she had given up the fight. Who would find her here when she knew only a couple of faces within the Vale and they might not even know she had returned?
Something in the darkness made the half-frozen female's head ache and a sickening feeling stirred in her stomach. Her prison was moving, chunks of it flying away to let in a light which felt so bright and painful that Larch felt as if she had never seen true light before. This brightness was so pure and she was so lacking in warmth that she felt as if she were looking straight into a strike of lightning.
A weight at her side fell – or flew – away, and Larch whimpered, turning her head as far as she was able to in an effort to shut out the light. Her body begged to be left where it was, soaking and crumpled, but she hadn't come back to Northstar Vale to simply give up. It was a mammoth of a task to move at all, and when the honey-pelted woman finally did try to crawl through the opening made by her leader she found she was stopped; impeded by a weight on her left hindleg.
Larch let out a gasp of pain as the mild air hit her face, her front paws scrabbling blindly at the snow. It was no good: the she-wolf, with all the determination she possessed, was pinned down by a blunt, heavy rock. Her eyes flickered open, bright with fear, and she cast a pleading look towards the frantic-looking form of her leader, Raheerah, who had put rules in place to keep them out of trouble. Larch had always had a knack for getting into trouble, rules or not. This time, though, trouble had found her – and then Raheerah had. How many times was she to be lost and found again? A whimper passed her lips as she considered letting her head flop back down to the peace of numbness, but the Warrior's breath was on her, furious in its exertions, and she had promised she would be useful. A bag of bones was no use to anyone.
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Messages In This Thread
No need to pray, no need to speak - by Larch - March 29, 2014, 01:59 PM
RE: No need to pray, no need to speak - by Raheerah - March 29, 2014, 06:55 PM
RE: No need to pray, no need to speak - by Larch - March 31, 2014, 12:17 PM
RE: No need to pray, no need to speak - by Raheerah - April 02, 2014, 10:42 PM