on the forefinger of an alderman

Moath · (This post was last modified: January 22, 2019, 09:40 AM by Moath.)

There was nowhere left to go, nowhere left to run. Panic crept up my throat as I ran into yet another dead end, and realized he had led me here. Turning around, I found him...

In that moment, Moath couldn't understand. There was much he couldn't make connections to, and that was what he was used to. However, as he lay in that field of scuffled white, he couldn't unstand one thing-

Why did this woman come for him? And was there no urge to kill her? He was dazed, but nothing showed any of the like in those voided eyes of his. They drifted over the face of this dark woman who had come to him, and the voice settled over him like some sort of blanket. He undstood nothing of what was happening, and that included orders. He simply lacked the capability of following orders. But as she pulled him to his fours, he felt the urges rise with him, and this one simply bade him follow the ushering of the somehow familiar woman.

So he did, despite not knowing that was what she wanted all along. It was just an instinct that revived from olden days, where it was all he could do until she had vanished from him, and he could follow no more. He didn't know what it meant. He didn't know then that she had abandoned him so long ago. But what he did know was that he was meant to follow her, limping and all. So the massive brute took away himself from the field of gigantuan beasts, and followed the smaller svelte woman.

And in silence, he waited.