November 06, 2018, 06:16 PM
'Someone's behind us, Starchaser... they're going to catch up!'
The nimbus had whirled, craning his skull around to peer behind him through the darkened trees and into the shadows that held threats and destitution beneath their looming boughs. Beneath the glimmer of moonlight overhead, he thought he could see the shimmer of heedful eyes. There was a rush of fear that filled him, reaching up with scrabbling little claws until they had found a way to his spine and then to his notched ears. It caught and held the breath in his throat, strangling the life from him without ever showing its face. Oh, how he cursed the very feeling of it – how it sat inside of his bones and waited for its moment to strike. The glimmer from the woods caught him once more, and the aphotic creature turned to his companion with a fretful expression etched onto the gaunt features of his face. Eridanus was feeding off of the quavering of his limbs and the wild thrumming of his heart.
'We must split up, little light. Find Perseus and instruct him to venture north of here. I will lead our followers away,' he had instructed her. His voice had hitched on the back of his throat and threatened to swallow the rest of his urgency.
The moonlit young girl gaped at him. Tears swelled in her gaze. There was trepidation in her posture, but she did not seem to react; she did not flee.
There was a snapping twig that cracked from behind them and the haggard one stretched his head out to nudge against his younger sister. There was no room for debate; he could not see her fall due to argument. The feeling of fear still viciously scratched at the insides of the Starchaser – it was seeking a way out. He gritted his teeth, clenched his jaw as tightly as he could, and fought against the feeling of impending doom that was stalking in the treeline fifty yards away. Another branch broke beneath the weight of something much larger than it could withstand. The jagged quills along his neck and shoulders spiked, and he turned back once more to peer against the darkness of the trees. The glimmer that had been there was gone.
'Go now!'
And she did – the pale young thing turned and ran as swiftly as her lengthy limbs would carry her away from that dreadful place. Though she was filled with regret and spoiled by her love for her family, she did not stop until she could no longer hold herself on her own trembling legs. By then, she had ventured far away from her sweet Starchaser and all of his protection. When she finally collapsed into the dirt and buried herself beneath the pricking thorns of a bramble bush, she feared she would never see him again.
Something had followed him; one part gnawing and another part searching. It had been full of mournful sounds that made the hair on his nape prickle like a cornered dog's. To its eyes, he was a hazy ghost of familiar scent and color. It was afraid, too, and alone. It had sought only comfort from the forms of the corporeal cosmos that prowled the earth. Fear had made him a terrible leader to them. It was in this fear that he had lost all that he held dear to his heart. What more, it had turned the great Starchaser into a pitiful creature. Whatever power had once raced through his veins had long since been diminished by the wickedness of his trials. Somewhere along the way, Orion had found his way into a decrepit shed. He had pulled down the damp-rotten door and found in it a tangle of oak branches and crawling maggots. There, dried leaves had hummed over the flesh of his second body.
It was that body he carried with him forever more. It was in that body that he had reacted to the sound of a stranger, calling to him within the vast expanse of the wild wood. He twisted himself, contorting and churning against the thought that there had been someone who had taken him by surprise. That body cursed him for having left them open to any approaching stranger. It knew the terrors that hid in the dark of the woods.
Bristling and burning, the Starchaser spun on his heels and lowered his crown toward the earth to protect himself – protect the soft portions of his weary and weatherworn frame – before fixing the burning embers of his gaze on a dark-faced young man. For a moment, the figure reminded him of Perseus and he felt his heart clench tightly within his chest. The stranger's eyes did not settle on him with the same emerald as his sweet younger brother's. Instead, the gaze of the approaching hunter was akin to the leaves that littered the forest floor and stretched overhead in a dramatic show of reach. Though he knew better than to trust the appearance of passersby, the young man did not seem to hold malice in his features. Instead, he walked with purpose and intent that reminded Orion of his younger years. For a moment, he was lost in his own envy. The weary traveler could not comprehend how others had never known the brutality that he had. It was as though he resented the very idea of those who were normal... as though it were a blessing.
“I... I haven't crossed into your land, have I?” the nimbus inquired.
Oh, that body had left him with a broken voice. The sound of it was shattered, flushed with the miles of travel that had worn down his figure and placed notches in his frame. Though he tried, it rasped from the back of his throat and caught against the very fear that had taken residence in his shape. There was no amount of wishing that could force it away from him.
Once the question had been released from its hold within his throat, he felt foolish and ill. The only scent of wolf in that forest was that of those who had wandered through. Orion knew better than to cross into the clearly marked terrain of a pack; he knew the punishment for having done so. The withered creature of the stars stared openly while he waited for a response that he realized might never have arrived. His frame was still hunkered – his eyes still burned with fearful distrust. While he may have cursed the second body that had been given to him, he knew that it was capable of fleeing. He knew that his limbs were taut in preparation for the moment that the strange young fellow turned into the foul beasts of the Ursa. Or, perhaps, the strapping thing would simply disappear in a great cloud of dark smoke. The sky must have wanted him to return home.
The nimbus had whirled, craning his skull around to peer behind him through the darkened trees and into the shadows that held threats and destitution beneath their looming boughs. Beneath the glimmer of moonlight overhead, he thought he could see the shimmer of heedful eyes. There was a rush of fear that filled him, reaching up with scrabbling little claws until they had found a way to his spine and then to his notched ears. It caught and held the breath in his throat, strangling the life from him without ever showing its face. Oh, how he cursed the very feeling of it – how it sat inside of his bones and waited for its moment to strike. The glimmer from the woods caught him once more, and the aphotic creature turned to his companion with a fretful expression etched onto the gaunt features of his face. Eridanus was feeding off of the quavering of his limbs and the wild thrumming of his heart.
'We must split up, little light. Find Perseus and instruct him to venture north of here. I will lead our followers away,' he had instructed her. His voice had hitched on the back of his throat and threatened to swallow the rest of his urgency.
The moonlit young girl gaped at him. Tears swelled in her gaze. There was trepidation in her posture, but she did not seem to react; she did not flee.
There was a snapping twig that cracked from behind them and the haggard one stretched his head out to nudge against his younger sister. There was no room for debate; he could not see her fall due to argument. The feeling of fear still viciously scratched at the insides of the Starchaser – it was seeking a way out. He gritted his teeth, clenched his jaw as tightly as he could, and fought against the feeling of impending doom that was stalking in the treeline fifty yards away. Another branch broke beneath the weight of something much larger than it could withstand. The jagged quills along his neck and shoulders spiked, and he turned back once more to peer against the darkness of the trees. The glimmer that had been there was gone.
'Go now!'
And she did – the pale young thing turned and ran as swiftly as her lengthy limbs would carry her away from that dreadful place. Though she was filled with regret and spoiled by her love for her family, she did not stop until she could no longer hold herself on her own trembling legs. By then, she had ventured far away from her sweet Starchaser and all of his protection. When she finally collapsed into the dirt and buried herself beneath the pricking thorns of a bramble bush, she feared she would never see him again.
Something had followed him; one part gnawing and another part searching. It had been full of mournful sounds that made the hair on his nape prickle like a cornered dog's. To its eyes, he was a hazy ghost of familiar scent and color. It was afraid, too, and alone. It had sought only comfort from the forms of the corporeal cosmos that prowled the earth. Fear had made him a terrible leader to them. It was in this fear that he had lost all that he held dear to his heart. What more, it had turned the great Starchaser into a pitiful creature. Whatever power had once raced through his veins had long since been diminished by the wickedness of his trials. Somewhere along the way, Orion had found his way into a decrepit shed. He had pulled down the damp-rotten door and found in it a tangle of oak branches and crawling maggots. There, dried leaves had hummed over the flesh of his second body.
It was that body he carried with him forever more. It was in that body that he had reacted to the sound of a stranger, calling to him within the vast expanse of the wild wood. He twisted himself, contorting and churning against the thought that there had been someone who had taken him by surprise. That body cursed him for having left them open to any approaching stranger. It knew the terrors that hid in the dark of the woods.
Bristling and burning, the Starchaser spun on his heels and lowered his crown toward the earth to protect himself – protect the soft portions of his weary and weatherworn frame – before fixing the burning embers of his gaze on a dark-faced young man. For a moment, the figure reminded him of Perseus and he felt his heart clench tightly within his chest. The stranger's eyes did not settle on him with the same emerald as his sweet younger brother's. Instead, the gaze of the approaching hunter was akin to the leaves that littered the forest floor and stretched overhead in a dramatic show of reach. Though he knew better than to trust the appearance of passersby, the young man did not seem to hold malice in his features. Instead, he walked with purpose and intent that reminded Orion of his younger years. For a moment, he was lost in his own envy. The weary traveler could not comprehend how others had never known the brutality that he had. It was as though he resented the very idea of those who were normal... as though it were a blessing.
“I... I haven't crossed into your land, have I?” the nimbus inquired.
Oh, that body had left him with a broken voice. The sound of it was shattered, flushed with the miles of travel that had worn down his figure and placed notches in his frame. Though he tried, it rasped from the back of his throat and caught against the very fear that had taken residence in his shape. There was no amount of wishing that could force it away from him.
Once the question had been released from its hold within his throat, he felt foolish and ill. The only scent of wolf in that forest was that of those who had wandered through. Orion knew better than to cross into the clearly marked terrain of a pack; he knew the punishment for having done so. The withered creature of the stars stared openly while he waited for a response that he realized might never have arrived. His frame was still hunkered – his eyes still burned with fearful distrust. While he may have cursed the second body that had been given to him, he knew that it was capable of fleeing. He knew that his limbs were taut in preparation for the moment that the strange young fellow turned into the foul beasts of the Ursa. Or, perhaps, the strapping thing would simply disappear in a great cloud of dark smoke. The sky must have wanted him to return home.
« Next Oldest | Next Newest »
Messages In This Thread
when the day becomes unbearable, seek refuge in the absence of light - by Orion - November 06, 2018, 01:39 PM
RE: when the day becomes unbearable, seek refuge in the absence of light - by Phox - November 06, 2018, 02:14 PM
RE: when the day becomes unbearable, seek refuge in the absence of light - by Orion - November 06, 2018, 06:16 PM
RE: when the day becomes unbearable, seek refuge in the absence of light - by Phox - November 07, 2018, 10:42 AM