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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


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    CHAPTER THREE: the price we pay [round three]
    #6
    <link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Dancing+Script|Pacifico" rel="stylesheet"><style type="text/css">.DVC_container {position: relative;z-index: 1;width: 500px;height: 990px;padding: 15px;background: #1B1B1B url('https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/3a/57/f5/3a57f5737062052a28cf11e813ca7144.jpg') no-repeat center top;border: 0px solid #fff;box-shadow: 0 0 1em #000;}.DVC_container1 {position: relative;z-index: 5;width: 450px;height: 445px;padding: 2px;background: transparent;border-left: 4px solid #F1D3B9;border-right: 4px solid #F1D3B9;margin-top: 520px;border-radius: 50px;}.DVC_container1 p {margin: 0;}.DVC_message {text-align: justify;font: 12px 'Times New Roman', serif;padding: 0px;color: #D5B199;width: 400px;height: 350px;overflow: auto;}.DVC_message::-webkit-scrollbar {width: 1px;background: transparent;}.DVC_name {text-align: center;font: 40px 'Dancing Script', cursive;color: #EDE0D0;padding: 0px;text-shadow: 2px 2px 4px #fff;}.DVC_quote {text-align: center;font: 14px 'Pacifico', cursive;color: #EDE0D0;padding: 10px 0;}</style><center><div class="DVC_container"><div class="DVC_container1"><p class="DVC_name">-Diorae-</p><p class="DVC_message">Ignoring the cold and the fact that she was completely soaked, she had stretched out. She had attempted to reach the peak, with the only goal in mind of reaching the orb. It was so close, so very close, but still too far away. Her neck extended and she reached out as far as she possibly could, even taking another step forward in an attempt to touch the orb that stood so bright against the stark darkness.

    Just like that, from one moment to another, it’s gone.

    Gasping in surprise and still struggling due to the low amount of oxygen in the air – little did she know that there also was poison in the game – Rae stumbles. She blinks, once, twice, and looks around almost dumbfound. No mountain, no storm, no orb. Instead she found herself standing, with four trembling legs, in a clearing.

    No, Diorae then realises. It’s not the orb that is gone, but instead she is the one that suddenly disappeared from the mountain peak. What, in name of the dear lord, was happening here?

    And what the **** was happening to her? Golden ears flick back and muscles tense under her skin. It burns. Burns so much. For a short moment it is like she goes down, her legs almost giving out, but then she corrects herself. No way she should lie down here and now. Bending her neck and glancing to herself, she can see the boils, which grow so big they show through her coat. It disgusts her, but honestly, it’s not the right time to think about it.

    Instead she glances around, taking in the new location, the orb had brought her to. She can see massive pine trees and the gentle glow of hills, well, except for the fact that it’s looking at her. The little light that the orb had radiated, is now gone. Once again darkness is all around her, and normally she wouldn’t have been able to see the.. thing, whatever it was. Now she can. And she can only wishes she couldn’t.

    For a moment she can only stare, eyes wide and ears pressed back against her skull. What was this? What was going on? What was it that was looking at her? In the eerie silence around her, the sound of her own – still heavy – breathing is harsh and loud to her ears. Diorae stumbles back, or actually she wants to, but finds herself unable to. The flesh of the rounding of her gluttons bump into something, some kind of barrier, blocking her way back. She can only go forward.

    That meant facing whatever it was that was staring at her.

    It’s not just one eye, or one pair of eyes. So many. And at first look it looks like they’re floating. They stare at her, not even blinking if favour of not losing sight of her. Rae stares right back at them. Unmoving.

    But she has to. Going back is not an option, only forward. She shudders, willing herself to move. Step for step, hoof for hoof. The closer she gets, the more clearer she can see them. Her eyesight is still better than ever, shaper, more clear, and she can see even in the darkness. Diorae squints her eyes a little, as if it would make her sight even better. She gasps and widens her eyes, obviously surprised, as her vision changes.

    She no longer just sees in the darkness, but instead her vision changed. She can see whatever it is that is looking at her, all because she can see heat signatures. What she sees is their body warmth, the warmers part bright red, then orange and yellowish green on the outside. Everything else is dark. So so dark, and Rae wishes that she could switch back to the other sight.

    However, now she knows how they look like. The eyes.. they are the highest part of the creatures. The hills are full with them, and all have a pair of eyes still watching her. They don’t more, or not more than a gentle blub of their muddy, jelly-like moving body. All flat on the ground, a little rise in the middle and then, from there up, two sticks. On the top of the sticks, a too big eyeball. It’s slimy and disgusting. But, it doesn’t look too dangerous.

    She still struggles to breath, but it’s no longer due to her hike up the mountain. Whatever it was that she had breathed in, it got her good. Like her lungs weren’t able to take in the oxygen that she breathed in, not enough to be fully comfortable at least. Diorae knows that staying still is no option, and thus she pushes forward. Closer and closer to the creatures.

    They don’t move, not even when she stops right in front of them. Her nostrils flare, trembling as she snorts. Her head dips towards it, as if she want to sniff it out. First the eyeball, which still doesn’t blink – though looks irritated now – before venturing further down. Down the long stick, or is it a neck, that connects to the body. It still hadn’t moved, or not really, just bubbling and oozing in place. Like an alive mud pool.

    Slowly she lifts her head, swallowing the dry lump in her throat, then she forces herself forward and steps on it. Just as quick as her hoof came in contact with the jelly substance of the body, she pulls back with a hiss. Tears water in her eyes, as if she didn’t hurt enough already. They cloud her vision too, but through it she can see the burn marks on her coronet bad. Widened eyes go back to the creatures, vision no longer in heat, but still better than normal. Some kind of gas was oozing from them.

    But she has to cross them in favour of moving forward. Glancing back across her shoulder, no, that was no option. Eyes are squeezed shut and yes, she has to go forward, and she doesn’t want to. But has to.

    A quick trot – canter still isn’t possible with the lack of oxygen in the air – she crosses them. Her hooves on their bodies, probably bruising and hurting them, just as they hurts her. Their gas burns her legs, burns her flesh, the hair of her body, it hurts. It hurts so much, but Rae has to go forward. Past the hills, to whatever lied behind them. Tears once again cloud her vision, breath raging and legs feeling like lead.

    Each step is one harder to take, and her pace slows down little by little. In the end, she’s barely trotting, soon walking. Step for step. Her head is low, dipped close to the ground, and she’s gasping for breath. At that point she thinks she’s not able to do this much longer, close to crumble and go down again. But then, then they are no longer underneath her hooves. Grass, instead, even in the darkness she sees.

    Rae gasps, as that’s the only thing she can do, tears rolling down her cheeks and she’s thankful. Finally, the torture is over. Finally, most of the hurting stopped. It’s not gone, her legs still glowing, burning, with whatever it was they got her with. Slowly she looks up, the smell of something sweet and promising reaching out to her. She has to blink a few times to be sure, to actually be sure of whatever it was that she was seeing. Hoping it would be able to take the burn away from her legs.

    Water. A lake.</p><p class="DVC_quote">A beautiful face is a mute recommendation.</p></div></center>
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    RE: CHAPTER THREE: the price we pay [round three] - by Diorae - 07-20-2017, 11:34 AM



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