on the forefinger of an alderman

Moath · (This post was last modified: January 14, 2019, 01:54 PM 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...

Moath had been unconsciously following the rumbles of the mass, shuffling forward as the vibrations carried him that way. They led him through the Teekon, and without protest or anything to be abrasive of the decision, he followed. The world was a cold one today, as it had been a regular few months now. But as of everything-
he felt nothing.

The obsidian mountain moved, shuffle by shuffle as he parted through the ruffles of with who tried to buffet the beast. Nothing could hold him back from this aimless goal.
It wasn’t long before the rumbles grew to a deafening degree.

Midnight amethysts locked into the heft of the herd, and almost without effort the weaker one stood out to him. Without even considering the other bison, not their capability, he began to make his way forward.

Near invisible irises hid against the the sea of black fur, but that faint purple gleam remained fixated on the one bison he wanted down.

Towards the herd, he walked.

And in silence, he waited.