Xx Ashes to Ashes...

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[bg=gray] The genteel cascade of snowflakes that descended upon the land granted a rare offering of peace to almost all inhabitants. However, as the dark eyes of a weathered form gazed up to the livid heaves, an expression of pain seemed to distort his sharp features. Yes, in the hollow eyes of this sparse stag, each spiraling flake was was a flinting illusion of ash...burning its way down to the barren earth. His orbs shut themselves away, heavy muzzle tipping back down, exhale bringing forth steam to chill. Images flickered behind those tight lids, scenes of rubbled streets drowning in gray from the skies. Broken bodies, burning flesh, and tears. The world was drowning in all those tears. The past was more than a scar upon his this chest...it crippled the withered heart. It was a thing that could never be erased. Then, the sigh fully left his maw...and the emaciated stallion slid forth with reserved movements. Bells continued their tolling in the center folds of his ears, but it was fruitlessly ignored. The surroundings held no interest, for he only saw what the blinders allowed. As the dull throb of land's pulse offered a sweet lullaby, the deep tones were a reminder that all was not lost. It was still live under the cloaking blanket of ivory. This valley had not changed much since its birth...and that allow locked him into place. Unconsciously, the series of short motion had successfully brought himself to a small drinking pool. Tentatively, his muzzle grazed over the coating of ice, whiskers brushing surface. The damp trendils of shaggy coat seemed to reach for the ground just as the motions ceased. Thirst burned and itch into the channels of throat. At this thought he recoiled with a flinch, head lowering more as the expanse of forelock covered the top portion of heavy set head. Who was he to complain of thirst? So many others had died...from such a thing...Sharp-razor edged memories of dreams splintered into the clouded mind, making himself weak with nausea. Why was he to live when millions had died a moment before and would all too eagerly take his place. He was underserving...yet...he lived on...

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Muse: High. High. In the Sky!
OOC: *laughs* Stranger is a bit of a killjoy.
Music: My Chemical Romance {Anything and Everything}

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[L Y N X !]

It had taken such an effort to get away, that she no longer had any energy to even stand. Her betrayal to the Zuden herd exposed had proven nearly fatal, and she sported fresh wounds that glittered wet with blood in the dim lighting. Aiden had taken her back to Fuoco to be decided her fate with the rest of the herd; they had chosen death. Being as pig-headed and unforgiving as Zuden were, she expected such an answer, but it frightened her none the less. It had taken everything to try and fight back, but the number of Zuden attacking her at once proved that she wouldn't survive unless she made a break for it. And the last thing she said to Aiden?; "You'll regret this!"

The words sounded dramatic and haunting in her mind, but now that she thought of it, she had no ground to start on. Sure, she had made alliances with some of the herds, but who would risk their life and limb to help a refugee Zuden, when their herds can become the next major target? And with that to worry about, she also had to figure out what to do to strike back, before it was all over and there was no one left to save. Aithne definantly knew she'd be the first they would kill when they had control.

Heavily-lidded, golden eyes set on a black stallion standing over a particially frozen brook. She slowly thought it odd that he stood there, only gazing at the water instead of drinking it. Her sluggish system was occupied with that thought, so that she didn't notice that she had fallen onto the freezing snow until her bodice had settled upon it. A dry moan escaped her velvety lips at the agony that radiated off her like the sun gave off heat; how did she run so far with this sort of injuries? Her mind turned is focus slowly back to the stallion standing there, eyes dully watching him. She felt pity for him, of how skinny and frail looking he was. It seemed as if he wanted to die, and he was close to it by the lack of meat on his bones.

That made her wonder; why was he like that? Was he having trouble reaching food? That was entirely understandable, the snow this year was ridicioulous, but being a Zuden, she had no trouble burning it away. This stallion on the other hand, probably did not. She thought mildly of asking him if he needed any assistance with reaching the grass or heating the water if it were too cold. But if he needed any help, he could simply ask. During that time, Aithne decided she was going to close her eyes and allow the cold, now bloodstained, snow to numb the pain of her flesh wounds.

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[bg=gray] The inordinate groundswell of tangible sentiment that washed without condolence onto the freshly fevered mind of the wilting stallion seemed to shatter the inner turmoil. With an unforeseeable jerk into upward motion, his unproportionally massive head startled as bottomless orbs tracked these unwanted waves to a mare crumpled to barren earth paces away from his place. Though vision wavered into unfocused pools of dim blurs, the beaten stag could easily conclude she was with all likelihood upon her deathbed. The overpowering aroma of scorched flesh as well as the drawing scent of newly brought blood. Within a few tedious moments, this mixture now churned with hostile intentions in the gut of Stranger, causing his body to shiver and convulse. A lapsing of too many horrible things stitched together by this one forthcoming radiated with underlined passion throughout his tormented form. An inhale that mirrored frightened gasp rasped through the silence as his lungs groped for the deprived air. The stale bitterness of ashen words cemented upon tongue, causing the almost agen stag to cough. A weak sound of sorrow escaped his lips, a frail note that hung without purpose or offering in the air, meant as a whinny of assurance. Yes, he knew better than any of horrors that death brought...how sort and cruel life was. With strenuous effort he pulled muscles forth, them working to move forth to her standing. Hollow indents of orbs fixed upon the mare as movements continued. Wither in truth or honesty, she did not deserve to die alone if it was to occur. The rigid timing of such motions brought forth through the expanse of frozen brook, it nearly splintering under his minimal weight, but not fully giving way. Concentrating upon her form in the distance, muscles appeared to groan with effort, though naturally it was not a supposed strain. Slowing, Stranger drew his weathered form to her side, lowering thin neck as if in consonance of his presence as he blew gently warm breath across the raw flesh. It was not of pity, but of wish these intentions masked. She deserved life, did she not? More so then him. His own pain seemed minimal to such things radiating from her. He gave another offering of sound, though it too seemed to be lost...

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Muse: High. High. In the Sky!
OOC: 70th Post! Whoot!
Music: My Chemical Romance {Anything and Everything}

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[L Y N X !]

Aithne was concious of the choked sound of a strange whinny, coming from the black stallion over the brook. It gave her an image of how bad his current state was, and it wasn't good at all. That also made her wonder if his starvation was self-inflicted; she had met a few horses in her time that had such a great emotional trauma that they did strange things, whether to themselves or to others. And this horse seemed to be no exception. It was almost frighteneing to see how frail he was, when he was clearly once very fit and healthy. And the wheezing cough that followed his strangled cry only seemed to give his appearance a worse effect.

Her ears flicked at the groan of the ice as weight pressed down against it, and assumed that the other equine was coming over to her. It was silent beside the soft sounds of hooves upon snow, which soon stopped as the mare felt a presence beside her and warm breath across her wounds. She half-opened her eye to peer open at him, and her gut wrenched with naseua at the sight of him. She could count every bone in his ribs, and his shoulder blades jutted out from his silouhette. His face was sunken in and hallow-looking, and eyes..oh, his eyes. They looked depthless, but yet looked as if they had seen the worst; judging by his body, perhaps he had.

His soft noises comforted Aithne, which might have been their intention. It let her know that maybe if she were to just let go, she wouldn't be alone when her last breath escaped her lungs, and for that, it meant the world. A soft sigh pressed out of her nostrils as she continued to gaze at him with golden eyes, until she caught herself, telling herself that she was being rude. "Hello," she said, her voice scratchy but soft. Was that her voice? Aithne seemed alarmed by it, giving a slight alarmed jolt when she heard it. A slight frown twitched at her maw, but she noted nothing aloud about it, and waited paitently for the stallion's answer.

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[bg=gray] The broken cinders that had pooled with constriction into the ebony depths of his eyes seemed to shatter with the words offered to crystalline air. Bottomless sockets of orbs caught the golden gaze with holding quality, without startling at motions nor shock for the exchange. Shakily exhaling, the beaten stag silently retracted the thinning neck back from her broken form as gears of mind clicked with inner noise as answer. With an effort keenly disguised from the world, his massive cranium was held at understandable height, deep pools still glued as it in search to hers as moments gathered strength. With a final tone resounding through the distance that held them, Stranger spoke in time with arcane ease. 'Hello,' The word was a foreigner upon his thin lips, passing with a whisper that withheld a sense of electric energy to air. A statuette upon the scene, motions did not reign upon his emaciated body as he continued to gaze as in collected companionship, offering everything of his time. Whatever the crossed stag had to offer this frail life that was cradled by the sands of time itself, he would give without hesitation from this part. She had proven that to him in a single word. Once more sheltered collections of the past dug deep into the pores of his skin, as if fangs reaching for the core. His body shivered slightly, the tremor reaching deeper than deep as it wormed into center stage. Pressure mounting, he still not dare break contact as another ragged breath was drawn from stale air, offering little more than steam for exhale. Snapping everything about him to lock emotions into place, he pleaded with his mind to offer something of comfort to the mare before him if not to him himself. What use was a dying man to a dying mare? A useless cough captured his breath, stifling inhale as he finally tore himself away. As soon as the wheezing finished, however, he pained himself to bestow limitless gaze upon her once more, trying to offer her reassurance that would only be read in his dark eyes...

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Muse: High. High. In the Sky!
OOC: Stanger...wow...he is so easy to write for. O.o
Music: My Chemical Romance {Anything and Everything}

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[L Y N X !]

A small smile couldn't help but creep up on the gray mare's lips as a faint response slipped loosely from his kissers. She could say it was a start; his voice sounded as if he hadn't spoken in a while. The smile was short-lived, however, as his dark eyes turned from her as a hacking cough consumed his frail body and shook him heavily. Undisguised concern lingered in her eyes as the stallion turned to look at her again with the same, sad black eyes that only seemed as if they were trying to give her comfort on her deathbed.

Aithne swallowed a soft groan, air pushing in and out faster through her nostrils as the forgotten pain began to return, searing all over again against her charred flesh. She didn't know a Zuden could burn another, but she had to learn the hard way that if they really meant to harm each other, they could. "Pardon me," she said, casting her gaze up at the dark stallion once more with slight, weak sheepishness as she offered another smile, dismissing the protest of her aching body as if it were only a fly buzzing in her ears. Aithne would heal herself if she had the energy to, but it was all sapped away during her flight away from Fuoco; her life was in fate's hands, but perhaps the stallion's presence was the only thing that kept her from simply closing her eyes and sinking into the blackness that lingered close in the back of her mind. "What's your name?" she asked softly, her one surviving ear flicking curiously. The other, however, was forsaken; half of it was bitten off, and was the source of her bleeding. "I'm Aithne," she offered.

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[bg=gray] The shade embraced lingering corners of the stallion's own darkened orbs, consuming them with a lasting flame that lashed out into silence as another drawing rasp was inhaled. It was not of rarity for any to be keen to notice the pained expression mirrored between the pair as the exchange dragged itself to length, even if it was deeply buried and merely hinted upon when one decided the other would never taken notice. The hungry frame that acted as stag listened with careful instruction to her question, portraying it in mind as more than what it might have been. A hint of expression that nearly reached the drowning pools of orbs but soon was lost in the depths. Wordless sentences formed lines, but none of these ever reached the cracked maw. Through the ticking bomb of precious sand wasted in hourglass, the dark pelted misfit finally had gathered breath and beat enough for suited response, which he offered with the blink of his long lashes. 'Stranger,' If the name was not the one he had been tacked with upon the fateful night of his birthing, then it would certainly still fit the current purpose of present. The letters embraced him, cradled his fragile thoughts and broken memories to act as a blindfold to the present that would become his dreams on the morrow. Once more, the voice was smooth as velveteen, but so quiet is was wind in cemetery for prying ears. Never in a single instantaneous beat of heart had he allowed their locked orbs to sever, though now his dark own peered with quizzical proportions into the depths to try and ease the hidden pains. At this distance, the pulse of veins was tangible, beckoning the frail form forth as a fish to line, closer..closer. Deeper with each startled intake was he captured farther. As if it was he who needed the comfort, though he was giving all he could to the fallen mare. With careful analysis of thought, the contact was broken briefly as thin neck fell to nose barren earth. Stilts shook with effort unknown to minuet muscle toning as the shaggy stallion lowered himself to the dust, locking eyes with her once more as if to offer something short of time...

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Muse: Impossible.
OOC: Wow. Compassion is in my nature.
Music: My Chemical Romance {Anything and Everything}

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[L Y N X !]

Aithne could only watch as the stallion dealt with his own suffering, silent other than the hacking coughs that occasionally wheezed through his lungs. It hurt her to see a horse in such condition, let alone for it to be self-inflicted. Though the winter was extremely harsh this winter, no horse would get as emaciated as he was without refusing to eat. His bones were brittle and weak by now, and each little movement she could hear the light groan of his joints as they made effort to move without having any energy. And with a little thought, if she soon died, he wouldn't be far behind her.

Aithne flicked her ear with mild curiousity as she tried the stallion's name. Stranger. It seemed to fit him well, though she knew nothing else about him. The mare blinked as the stallion suddenly lowered his head, and soon the rest of his body followed him to the earth with achy slowness that looked all too painful to even watch. A soft sigh escaped her kissers, smokey vapor curling around her maw before thinning out into the freezing air. With breif uncertaintly, her half-lidded eyes slowly closed but her breathing still continued with the light rise and fall of her barrel as her lungs expanded and contracted. After a few minutes in calm silence, Aithne had to fill it with her low voice, too keep herself distracted. "Why don't you eat, Stranger?" she inquired. "I don't see it fitting if both of us died today."

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[bg=gray] The contrasting dimness that coincided fitting background did precious minimal as to offer even hint upon distraction. Animated crimson silhouettes danced medievally through glossy black iris as mind's eyes seemed to bear forth only hinted reflection for past. The question asked bore for such a weight that it pulled the edge of his mind tiredly, cracking the line farther of what the future would soon hold. Here. There. Gone. It was loaded with meaningless intentions that seemed so simple as gears serving brain suitably chimed. Yes, the fragmented puzzles of internal workings were starved just as the rest of him could only seem to offer. Hunger. The last sentence she offered made another rasping breath bring forth cough as the choking stag forgot to breath upon instant. Whiskered muzzle lowered with pained effort to graze across exposed blades of emerald, the few that were not tainted with the mare Aithne's own crimson. The weathered stallion's orbs were trained with transfixed agenda upon each delicate drop as his maw did not open to gather substance. He froze with key components stalling as a strangled breath, more so than others, racked his form as if in desperate cry. There was no offer of words that he knew that would suffice to the questions asked. Nothing he himself could say harbored any meaning to the mare without his dreams. They were not dreams though, they were the last fleeting moment of reality that had been lost to the others forever. But not to him. Was it a curse to relive each second? Each painful, shattered, splintered, crippled, broken, raw memory? It was always the bad, bad bad. Was there any good to be had in this world? Did he know. Deep pooling orbs gazed fitfully in search of almost a pray of salvation as they caught her gaze from behind tangled locks of woven forelock. Was it a beg, a plead? 'I am...undeserving...' His voice broke with soft inclination as he swallowed heartily, 'So many others...' Heavy head dropped as if in shame at the weakness in voice, words hurting, burning a searing path of flame in the very channels, fibers, of his aching throat. He did not wish for the mare to die. He did not want that at all. She must live on, even if he was to die himself. A worthy sacrifice for the one who listened when he spoke, no matter how desperate or pitiful the whispering mumbles bore...no matter... It was all unfathomable.

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Muse: Unfathomable
OOC: This is....
Music: My Chemical Romance {Anything and Everything}

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[L Y N X !]

And soon after the words were spoken, Aithne wished she could rewind and take them back. He was silent, though in his dark iris, everything was screaming outloud. It was difficult to take in, her slow and fuzzy mind refusing to put the gears to work to figure this horse out. Emotional trauma was very eminant, and it pained her even more to look at the emaciated creature, a poor soul that she had failed to protect from the dangers of life. But perhaps it were something that occured off of the secluded island of Isola Dei Dei, something that she had no control over. Damn it to hell, whatever it was, that caused him to become in such an emaciated condition. She was afraid that he wouldn't even be able to stand up again.

It was bad enough that she was going to die. Her blood pooling around her crania had begun to slow as it began to clot, her bodice attempting to save itself from its point of near death. This was the second time she was close to death today; a grief crazed filly had gone after her, and the only reason she was breathing right now was a pair of mares that knew of her cause. For them she'd be eternally grateful, but it seemed their effort was wasted, now that she was close to slipping away again. How tempting the darkness, luring her with familiar murmurs of ones she thought she had lost. It was all confusing, jumbled words, meshed together in a low hum at the back of her mind, but only occasionally a voice rose above the rest, and they all said the same thing, over and over, before they fell back into the traditional tempo; Aithne...

Aithne's ears strained forward, yearning to answer back, to sink into the darkness to join those who were gone, and breathe no more. A soft sigh escaped her nostrils, her yellow gaze still locked on the stallion as he tentively brushed his maw against the few exposed blades of grass, and the even fewer number that was painted with her blood. Her expression of cool calmness didn't change as his maw refused to open, but curiousity pricked at her like a thorn. Her knawing questions were soon silenced when the stallion spoke, a haunted look eminant in his distant eyes. Fragments of his past, playing like a broken tape in his mind. Aithne gave him a few moments of silence, only disturbed by the moan of the wind as it whistled around their silouhettes. When she finally spoke, her tone was soft and coaxing, as if she were speaking to a frightened foal. "No one has told you you were, but yourself. Your own approval isn't needed; but as you wish, you can parish along with me if you like, though I hope you don't."

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[bg=gray] The stench of death emitted with pouring coincidence from each whisper of wind that shattered as if diamond embedded daggers racking across protruding spinal column. Audios drowned in hints of scarlet seas as the calming tones of the dying mare stroked against the muffled patterns etched by the heavens as the stag's own petaled ears. Yet each and every word as a tortured scream, plunging the serrated edgings of scythe deeper into fresh wounds. This did not play out as his own past, but the past of millions across the isles as well as to the very farthest extent of beyond. Backwards, under they beckoned with a skeletal hand and captured breath. Under! Bathe with the guilt of your brethren! Blasphemer! Perish! This time, the crawling episodes of convulsing fits offering as shaking skin did not cease. It dug deeper into the painful sores, tearing and ripping the raw marks with searing truth. Undeserving. Shattering. The thin neck rose upward as mind tore words into mindless mumbles, thin membrane acting as skin trembling across aching bones. His hollow orbs peered with truth into her orbs as he concluded the destiny of their fates. The eyes filled with sadness. Tears, the hot sensation of tears, prickled the surface and soon flooded the sharpened depth, spilling like new blood down his hollow face. Sadness. Bitterness. Why did she have to become the earth? Why did it all hurt? Why? Mother...? This gift only hurts me... How many days? Restless nights because I do not deserve the sleep! Hungry churning in depleting gut, thirst scorching in throat! The guilt, mother! Guilt...for every breath, beat of heart, taste of drink or substance. Curse death and his pale horse for taking you and I apart, curse father for letting you go! The fragmented shards of drawing memories broken now by rich haggard sobs. Stranger would give anything to forget everything, but for now, he wanted to comfort this stranger...be a stranger...give her a name that meant something. He had a name. He had a past. But he did not want her to know! It would hurt. A smile...yes...the impossible chance of a smile as the tears blended with crimson on grace. Broken, dislodged, disjointed. Unnatural upon drawn face.'My name...is...Shiminege...means 'will foresee our future'...yet..' His voice cracked, the shards tangible in the air, 'I..only see...the past....'

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Muse: O.O So high....
OOC: This is....my best post ever...so...compelling...I almost started to cry.
Music: My Chemical Romance {Anything and Everything}

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[L Y N X !]

His body shook with the tortured weeping that soon erupted from the confines of his mind, like a break in stormclouds that poured down rain. A cold finger traced down the mare's spine that had nothing to do with the cold that surrounded them like a cruel, biting blanket. Longing tenderness consumed her, wanting to offer her own form of comfort to the stallion; his problem outweighed hers, though her strength slowly ebbed away. Aithne's kissers parted to intake air, as well as let out a soft sigh that lingered in the frosty air. The seconds ticked by as minutes, slowed by the intensity of the moment. Everything else seemed to blurr by as the mare stared at the broken Stranger by her side. They both clung to each other for comfort, though neither of them could find any ground to start on to even begin. Her words were only tid-bits, fuel to the fire that was burning in his mind.

A pained expression passed over the fallen Züden's façade as tears made thin tracks down the black's face, to only drop and freeze on the earth. He was out of her reach; she wasn't able to help save him from himself. Her lips pursed as if she was going to speak, but words failed to slip past her tongue, too offer up some ground for his struggle with reality. As words ushered past his lips, Aithne's golden irises opened that much more, fighting the exhaustion that kept them low. Shiminege. That name stirred in her mind, made it wake for a fraction from its dull haziness, before it sank back again into the fog, only deeper into the abyss. The gray clenched her teeth, clinging desperately to anything, anything at all that could save her from slipping away. 'Aithne...'

Her lungs drew in the icy air shakily, as if it already had begun to resist intaking it. Aithne could only slowly let her eyes droop, though they never strayed from the stallion by her side. Her legs gave the slightest twitch, the ghost of moving them since minutes after her birth. Her lashes drooped lower, and so did her awareness of the world around her. "B-brochan. It means...broken. Stay with me," her voice croaked, fear glittering in her golden irises. "Give me a reason to come back.." Her words trailed as her eyes closed and suddenly, she was smacked down into the choaking darkness, but not before her mind clung onto a single thread of remaining light.

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[bg=gray] The smoldering ashes of reminding flames licked horridly across faded expanse of pelt as the words came crashing down around him as if broken shards of tainted glass. Light flooded with clouding configuration as the name stuck to his ribs only to drown heart in crimson at the dwindling spark that served the cradled world as the mare Aithne. Heart leaped to beat shattered rhythm as if to then extend reach of hopeless offering, to save oneself is to merely save another in which one does not know. Yet, the fea fell. The earth seemed to split to embrace her shell, as if to reclaim what it bore, a welcome return. Hollow, the sound echoed, serving as the breaking point for mind, replaying millions of tortured times as Stranger could only observe. What had he done? This was the saddest moment. The broken trumpet of the stallion tore its way out of raw chord, seeming to rip out the sorrow that broke his very soul. Unfitting for the desperate form as a call to the angels to have mercy! Mercy! Proclamation to the heavens above to hear the plea, light of ire echo to the ends of the earth. Begging, the burst of audios contained the painful remembrance of all the lives the pale horse had already taken while Stranger...Shimenge...Brochan..only watched through bottomless sockets. No more! Please! Let the light return to her wonderful form, even if it shall take me in her place! The tears continued to track rivulets as the sound continued to splinter, break, and crack into fragments of sound. Help, Master. What have I done wrong? What is my sin? Patterns of mud had been etched into mundane existence by the carving of tears to crimson ash. With helpless motions, muscles screamed to fiery complication as the disabled stallion attempted to stagger to ached hooves. The mixture clung like dying breath to the very trendils of lengthy pelt as he slipped to land with burst of pain. Another call was extended, just as broken as the first, more hoarsely silent tones as if to recall the clinging soul of the mare at lay. Ribs expanded as heart pounded against aching cage, like the wing beats of captive gale watching the heavens shimmer through glass. The strain was suffocating as the frame hauled to the feet, only to sway drunkenly a few mere paces to pant against neck. Promise. Offering. Plead. Do not leave me here alone!

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Muse: ....
OOC: ....
Music: My Chemical Romance {Anything and Everything}

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[L Y N X !]

It was strange, being dead.
It didn't feel like she was dead, like she was still attatched to the strings of life, weighed down by something other than her soul. But what did she know? She was dead, that was it. She expected to be free of all emotion, of all thought, of all memories, and to just be released. But everything was still there, inside her mind. And so she just waited, waited for something more, or something less, other than just sitting here in the darkness.

The whispering of her name was louder now than before, but it was still there. She tried to speak, but as she opened her mouth, no noise came out. Or at least, she thought it was her mouth. Aithne was becoming bored. Was this all there was? No greater unknown, just this hallow blackness, that called her name? What? What did they need, why were they calling her? She was already here. Her interest perked at the faded echo of a tortured scream, sounding like it came from miles away. This all made no sense! Was she dead, or was she not? She had thought she was, but now she wasn't so sure. But all she knew, she was wallowing in the nothing of her mind. And then the scream sounded off again, still distant, but a bit clearer than before. How odd.

Aithne wanted to reply, but her words choked in her throat. This was no fun. So she was expected to sit, for the rest of time? She was going to continue blabbing to her concience, but a glowing figure was making its way through the gloom. She narrowed her eyes and peered closer, but the figure soom became clearer and clearer. She stared at the figure, the image of a horse she felt she should know, but the name never sprung to her mind. The spirit watched her for a while, and she stared back. And after a while, it shook its head once. No speech of how she deserved a second chance of her bravery, or of her youth and no her time, and all that nonsense. Just a shake of its head, and she was sucked away again, leaving her sprawling for breath, her eyes shooting open and staring at the emaciated stallion at her side, her lungs clawing for the icy air that stung them at each chilly, quick inhale.

ooc: sorry it took me so long ^^;

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[Storeh]

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[bg=gray] The barbed claws of humanity served little justice to the fevered as well as frenzied handful of thoughts that were launched through the thin corridors that served as the gaunt stallion's shrinking mind. There was the illusion of hope, underlying the senses of purpose or responsibility for the present tenses as the trumpet recalled days passed, and brought the world carried round. Tension caused by blamed guilt crept far over the edge into the course of mere oblivion as the mare's palely clouded orbs snapped open as entire frame shook with the grasping intake of secluded icy breath to inflate life once more. Each unevenly paced gasp left his own form hollow as soul reached out to offer hand in survival. The soft audios that hinted upon relief but still holding the grieving plead of hanging one resounding with almost haunting song through the drowning suffocate of atmosphere. Thin neck recoiled to dive downward as bottomless eyes sparked with desperate attempts to keep her, Aithne, in this world and away from the silhouetted pale horse. Soft exhales extended what the stag hoped would be taken as comfort that she was not alone, company was here to try and assist through this time. The very burning fire that the elemental fea harbored burned through the ashen cloud of past that normally captured all of Stranger's attentions in all moments of passing. Away, the demons flew far from his withered mind, yet their shade cast over his shoulder as he stood; rocking himself with the strain of life as he shivered with the reek of future hinted. Shiminege who will foresee our future, whom lived in the past, prayed to the many faceless gods watching his weathered nature on tightrope string from on high, was not going to allow the underlings from hells-spawn to spirit her away. With this new thought, he stood with defiance by her side, soft audios prying his chapped maw every so often as he watched with observing and unconcealed hope that she would pull through. The world would only know if she did not.

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Muse: ....
OOC: It's the holidays! I never expected for a reply this soon anyway! xD
Music: My Chemical Romance {Anything and Everything}

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