10-25-2018, 04:17 PM
Uncoiled and alone, he parts from Tindalos’ side and says little and nothing when the other stallion gently presses his nose against his cheek. Faint as it was, quick- he cannot help but smile and there is a nod he gives to someone unseens: to a woman whose form shadows his own and who stands idly beside Tindalos.
‘I hear something, I’ll look- for all of us.’
He thinks, listens and notes the sound of the voice. Familiar in a way his spattered body is guided through the newly risen Pangea towards the place where calamity echoes and he can hear the cacophonous screaming and howling of maddened men and women.
Tithe is, by nature, slender and more streamlined than some. With hotblooded features that yet carry some strength, this is outlined by the pale apricot and spattered gray… by the primitive markings and almost ruddy tinge of his body and its curves. Gliding through coral-grown and barnacle covered plants and rocks, he notes the moss and algae, the broken seashells and all the litter of ash and sand. He can smell the corpses of fish and whale, of sharks, and see the bones and rotting meat of creatures forced upon the earth.
It disturbs him; but, he does not blink: Pangea is his birthplace, his home.
There is a quiet second before he turns the corner of some great stone when he hears the screaming and maddened frenzy at its loudest: when he feels a reverberation of something impossible. “Grandfather,” she states loudly- purposeful and aware. “It seems you have brought Pangea back to this world.” the sentiment is not malicious nor evil, not joyful; but rather it is sobered and calm.
Whether or not @[Carnage] hears him, he cannot say; but he sees it then.
A writhing mass of frenzied flies and maggots desperate to snap and feed upon the corpse of a man who has long been dead. Some try to help, to free the beast from its festering and parasitic attackers; but they are few and far between. Tithe grits his teeth, thinks of Carnage’s message and the brutal truths of his Grandfather he learned so long ago. Yet even then he considers Mordgeld and Tindalos, he considers the coupling of them and the child growing in the ancient mare and the role it will have in his life.
‘I must protect my son.’ he tells himself. ‘I must protect Tindalos, and even Mordgeld- I cannot let the chance be true that this man will bring us sickness.’
And for the moment there is fire in his heart.
Tithe, too, becomes frenzied but not in the way others have: oh no, he is purposeful in his steps and agile, quick without failed footing. The hooves digging into broken shells and sand, his body carried through the mass and lacking power as others he charges for the head of the rotting beast. His body turned as forelegs drive down into the ground and his weight is thrust into a turn and spin: the back legs coiled with all his strength and hooves snapping out suddenly into a single kick that is not aimed at the lower chest… on no- it is aimed for the upper parts.
Seeking to impact the base of the throat, he finds himself brought to earth again after the attack, to turn and look: prepared to stand for the family he calls his own… amidst the frenzy and wild.
( tldr; he kicked him in the base of the throat/upper chest. he ain't got powers or special gifts, but I do give the @[Officials] team permission to go wild with consequences as a result of his attack and subsequent participation. )
‘I hear something, I’ll look- for all of us.’
He thinks, listens and notes the sound of the voice. Familiar in a way his spattered body is guided through the newly risen Pangea towards the place where calamity echoes and he can hear the cacophonous screaming and howling of maddened men and women.
Tithe is, by nature, slender and more streamlined than some. With hotblooded features that yet carry some strength, this is outlined by the pale apricot and spattered gray… by the primitive markings and almost ruddy tinge of his body and its curves. Gliding through coral-grown and barnacle covered plants and rocks, he notes the moss and algae, the broken seashells and all the litter of ash and sand. He can smell the corpses of fish and whale, of sharks, and see the bones and rotting meat of creatures forced upon the earth.
It disturbs him; but, he does not blink: Pangea is his birthplace, his home.
There is a quiet second before he turns the corner of some great stone when he hears the screaming and maddened frenzy at its loudest: when he feels a reverberation of something impossible. “Grandfather,” she states loudly- purposeful and aware. “It seems you have brought Pangea back to this world.” the sentiment is not malicious nor evil, not joyful; but rather it is sobered and calm.
Whether or not @[Carnage] hears him, he cannot say; but he sees it then.
A writhing mass of frenzied flies and maggots desperate to snap and feed upon the corpse of a man who has long been dead. Some try to help, to free the beast from its festering and parasitic attackers; but they are few and far between. Tithe grits his teeth, thinks of Carnage’s message and the brutal truths of his Grandfather he learned so long ago. Yet even then he considers Mordgeld and Tindalos, he considers the coupling of them and the child growing in the ancient mare and the role it will have in his life.
‘I must protect my son.’ he tells himself. ‘I must protect Tindalos, and even Mordgeld- I cannot let the chance be true that this man will bring us sickness.’
And for the moment there is fire in his heart.
Tithe, too, becomes frenzied but not in the way others have: oh no, he is purposeful in his steps and agile, quick without failed footing. The hooves digging into broken shells and sand, his body carried through the mass and lacking power as others he charges for the head of the rotting beast. His body turned as forelegs drive down into the ground and his weight is thrust into a turn and spin: the back legs coiled with all his strength and hooves snapping out suddenly into a single kick that is not aimed at the lower chest… on no- it is aimed for the upper parts.
Seeking to impact the base of the throat, he finds himself brought to earth again after the attack, to turn and look: prepared to stand for the family he calls his own… amidst the frenzy and wild.
( tldr; he kicked him in the base of the throat/upper chest. he ain't got powers or special gifts, but I do give the @[Officials] team permission to go wild with consequences as a result of his attack and subsequent participation. )