09-02-2016, 06:52 PM
Gunsynd
I wanna chain you up I wanna tie you down
A new day has risen. The dust has settled. And Gunsynd is left alone with no place to call home. No, it was more than that. The Valley had been his lover, his only lover. His mistress. And now she was gone. Wiped from the map as if she had never existed in the first place. Would he ever smell that earthy musk again? Would his pelt lose her scent? Would he remember her every twist and turn? (He would, he would never forget.)
He moves about the meadow aimlessly, for where is he to go? His eyes are red from lack of sleep. His body heavy and uncomfortable. The black male is despondent. He needs to find a way to fix this, but how? Even the magicians have lost their powers. It is all holed up in that mountain, ever present, watching them scurry around like ants. His bloodshot eyes dart to the peak with malice. He could have forgiven the loss of the magic if it had left his valley unharmed.
Suddenly, the beast’s movement is halted as he haphazardly walks directly into another equine. His attention snaps back to this new form and realizes that he had been headed into the path of a tree. Past the point of caring, he simply moves back and observes the stranger apathetically. “Sorry.”
I M J U S T A S U C K E R F O R P A I N