03-29-2021, 08:53 PM
Lumineer
He forgets his sorrow. He forgets everything but the panic that wraps itself around his windpipe like a vise. Her voice is weak, little more than a whisper as she utters his name. How is it that something spoken so softly can slip between his ribs like a blade? He grimaces, his brow furrowed so deeply that it aches.
He doesn’t know how to help her. He doesn’t even know any healers and it would take him too long to get to them even if he did. His heart thunders something deafening in his head, which has gone suddenly empty. He drops to his knees beside her, nudging her as gently as he can, though his panic makes him clumsy and he staggers to his feet again.
“I’m sorry,” he tells her, “I’m so sorry.” His tongue feels thick in his mouth. This is his fault. It’s all his fault, though he hadn’t thought that she might be looking for him. How could he when he hadn’t thought he’d even registered on her radar? Certainly she had more interesting things to think about than a silly colt she’d met who didn’t know how to keep secrets.
“Oh, Rosebay,” he sighs mournfully, noticing the way she froths at the mouth.
He has no choice but to step back and shift into the wolf. The scruffy thing shot through with gold, flowers gathered around the ears. “This is the only way I can help you, I’m sorry.” He creeps closer, careful, aware that the wolf is a predator and the horse is prey. He dips his canine head, sucks in a sharp breath and begins to lap at the blood oozing from her shoulder, cleaning the wound.
The poison hits his gut like a thousand blades and he immediately recoils, yelping in pain. He cowers, whimpering, blind with agony. The canine stomach turns in a way that the equine stomach cannot and his back arches as he couches and retches against the pain.
He doesn’t know how to help her. He doesn’t even know any healers and it would take him too long to get to them even if he did. His heart thunders something deafening in his head, which has gone suddenly empty. He drops to his knees beside her, nudging her as gently as he can, though his panic makes him clumsy and he staggers to his feet again.
“I’m sorry,” he tells her, “I’m so sorry.” His tongue feels thick in his mouth. This is his fault. It’s all his fault, though he hadn’t thought that she might be looking for him. How could he when he hadn’t thought he’d even registered on her radar? Certainly she had more interesting things to think about than a silly colt she’d met who didn’t know how to keep secrets.
“Oh, Rosebay,” he sighs mournfully, noticing the way she froths at the mouth.
He has no choice but to step back and shift into the wolf. The scruffy thing shot through with gold, flowers gathered around the ears. “This is the only way I can help you, I’m sorry.” He creeps closer, careful, aware that the wolf is a predator and the horse is prey. He dips his canine head, sucks in a sharp breath and begins to lap at the blood oozing from her shoulder, cleaning the wound.
The poison hits his gut like a thousand blades and he immediately recoils, yelping in pain. He cowers, whimpering, blind with agony. The canine stomach turns in a way that the equine stomach cannot and his back arches as he couches and retches against the pain.
THROUGH THE DARKNESS TO THE DAWN
@[rosebay]