10-19-2018, 07:01 PM
She does not know where she is.
An impenetrable darkness hangs all around her and the air itself feels thick, hard to breathe and impossibly wet. She inhales through her nostrils but the struggles hurts, oh it hurts, and she chokes and sputters and coughs until her body is able to find a moment of respite and peace. The taste of coppery blood lingers on her tongue and she can barely remember anything else; but her legs are strong, and she continues walking: passing through shadow and shadow… through the ink and murk, and through the grasping tendrils of blackened earth that cling to her hooves.
Sarkis screams, she yells and screams: she cries too, but, the echoes are nonexistent and the sound falls to little more than a the shrill cry of wind echoing through cliffs.
Salt.
Sea and sun, the smell of the beach is suddenly thrust into her senses and she sees light piercing the very fabric of the darkness. This pulsating shadow screeches and with desperation she plunges forward towards it before the murk can grasp her legs once more. It feels endless, as this loop was made to be infinite and a trap; but every fifth or sixth blink the light grows in size and she becomes more frenzied with each realization.
Jagged rocks and stones dig into her hooves and the footing becomes slippery, wet from the sea. Those coiled hind legs push down and snap, shooting her forward and over several large stones: Sarkis scratches her forelegs on the brine encrusted stone as she legs lands and her eyes close as the sunlight is blinding.
Free, she inhales, and tastes the air: true air.
Free, she shivers, looking back to dark cave and the bloodied stones: to the hellmouth that lets out a great rumble as she turns and opens her eyes. The green tinted hazel gleaming and her body suddenly warmed by the familiar air and sun, Sarkis half smiles but in her mind she cannot push back the feeling of loneliness and misery, of pain.
Her legs wobble as she walks, and without ceremony she waits until she has found sand before allowing her legs to bend and body to fall to the ground with a sigh of relief. Weak and resting, she slowly draws herself up, slowly pushed and forces herself to stand: to adjust the eyes to sun and to recall the voracity and hunger in her belly.
“That place, where?” she begins to ask, to speak, to try and collect her thoughts. Gaze rolling across the sand and stones of the beach, the caves in the cliff walls: and more so the sea, that cold embodiment that beckons so sweetly to the sore and tested body. For moments she dips into her, Sarkis’ dusty coat washed and the cavern grime left behind: blood too was washed.
Yet with wounded and scratched legs she goes back to the shore, walks and guides herself to where the sun is the warmest, and with that she exhales and calls out a single word:
“Mother?” sweet and gentle, full of confusion. “I think I was lost… are you here?” she remembers asking before, crying and screaming, she remembers pleading. “Please don’t be gone again… I’m sorry I left.”
Her heart is breaking, but, for the moment she remembers the strength it took to escape the umbra and sheol, and so she holds on, waiting.
An impenetrable darkness hangs all around her and the air itself feels thick, hard to breathe and impossibly wet. She inhales through her nostrils but the struggles hurts, oh it hurts, and she chokes and sputters and coughs until her body is able to find a moment of respite and peace. The taste of coppery blood lingers on her tongue and she can barely remember anything else; but her legs are strong, and she continues walking: passing through shadow and shadow… through the ink and murk, and through the grasping tendrils of blackened earth that cling to her hooves.
Sarkis screams, she yells and screams: she cries too, but, the echoes are nonexistent and the sound falls to little more than a the shrill cry of wind echoing through cliffs.
Salt.
Sea and sun, the smell of the beach is suddenly thrust into her senses and she sees light piercing the very fabric of the darkness. This pulsating shadow screeches and with desperation she plunges forward towards it before the murk can grasp her legs once more. It feels endless, as this loop was made to be infinite and a trap; but every fifth or sixth blink the light grows in size and she becomes more frenzied with each realization.
Jagged rocks and stones dig into her hooves and the footing becomes slippery, wet from the sea. Those coiled hind legs push down and snap, shooting her forward and over several large stones: Sarkis scratches her forelegs on the brine encrusted stone as she legs lands and her eyes close as the sunlight is blinding.
Free, she inhales, and tastes the air: true air.
Free, she shivers, looking back to dark cave and the bloodied stones: to the hellmouth that lets out a great rumble as she turns and opens her eyes. The green tinted hazel gleaming and her body suddenly warmed by the familiar air and sun, Sarkis half smiles but in her mind she cannot push back the feeling of loneliness and misery, of pain.
Her legs wobble as she walks, and without ceremony she waits until she has found sand before allowing her legs to bend and body to fall to the ground with a sigh of relief. Weak and resting, she slowly draws herself up, slowly pushed and forces herself to stand: to adjust the eyes to sun and to recall the voracity and hunger in her belly.
“That place, where?” she begins to ask, to speak, to try and collect her thoughts. Gaze rolling across the sand and stones of the beach, the caves in the cliff walls: and more so the sea, that cold embodiment that beckons so sweetly to the sore and tested body. For moments she dips into her, Sarkis’ dusty coat washed and the cavern grime left behind: blood too was washed.
Yet with wounded and scratched legs she goes back to the shore, walks and guides herself to where the sun is the warmest, and with that she exhales and calls out a single word:
“Mother?” sweet and gentle, full of confusion. “I think I was lost… are you here?” she remembers asking before, crying and screaming, she remembers pleading. “Please don’t be gone again… I’m sorry I left.”
Her heart is breaking, but, for the moment she remembers the strength it took to escape the umbra and sheol, and so she holds on, waiting.