Today, 12:36 AM
harrowed
Harrowed had woken to the sound of a scream in a copse of trees that he did not remember stumbling into. By the time his red eyes open there's no one around and an unsettled feeling rises up, coating his body in an uncomfortable coolness that cannot be shaken.
It remains as he stands. His body feels… different. Like he is still inhabiting another shape that isn't his own.
When he tries to shape shift into the canine beast, nothing happens. There isn't even an emptiness, really, and he would have expected there to be one if he were somehow no longer a bodach. That was who he was — who he had always been. It was part of his identity. He was a bodach.
Perhaps he is just too weary? Even that short nap hasn't made up for the hell his body and mind have gone through in… well, he no longer knows how many days it has been or for how long he was trapped inside that other world.
There is enough energy, at least, for his brain to remind him of all his worries about his family. He needed to know if those were just echoes of them used to torment him or if they were trapped somewhere too. So he makes his way to the forest, knowing Torryn can often be found haunting here. It's as familiar to him as the Dale and the comfort of the shadows does a little to soothe that chill clinging to him.
It feels foolish to call out loud when just wandering will do the trick. Either he'll pick up Torryn's scent or his dad will pick up Harrowed's. The white stallion is trailed by a bank of shadows, though this is not entirely out of the ordinary for him, and his expression is sour with exhaustion and anxiety.
It remains as he stands. His body feels… different. Like he is still inhabiting another shape that isn't his own.
When he tries to shape shift into the canine beast, nothing happens. There isn't even an emptiness, really, and he would have expected there to be one if he were somehow no longer a bodach. That was who he was — who he had always been. It was part of his identity. He was a bodach.
Perhaps he is just too weary? Even that short nap hasn't made up for the hell his body and mind have gone through in… well, he no longer knows how many days it has been or for how long he was trapped inside that other world.
There is enough energy, at least, for his brain to remind him of all his worries about his family. He needed to know if those were just echoes of them used to torment him or if they were trapped somewhere too. So he makes his way to the forest, knowing Torryn can often be found haunting here. It's as familiar to him as the Dale and the comfort of the shadows does a little to soothe that chill clinging to him.
It feels foolish to call out loud when just wandering will do the trick. Either he'll pick up Torryn's scent or his dad will pick up Harrowed's. The white stallion is trailed by a bank of shadows, though this is not entirely out of the ordinary for him, and his expression is sour with exhaustion and anxiety.
@Torryn