11-21-2020, 12:38 PM
"Clads?"
Her broken head tilts to one side, unsure what he means. She can't picture what a crab might be, but it must be something terrifying if he is worried about them, and the thin mare yanks her muzzle back from its low place, pulls it high and tight to her narrow neck, golden eyes shining bright with a new concern. What awful things they must be capable of if this god of the Dawn has come to warn her against them? Her skin shudders. She had been so sure this was a good place, and starry Aedan raises his family here. Do the crabs not come for them? She wavers, wonders if she can find her way back to the safety of his nesting place. The path she has traveled feels lost in a fog, in the mire of her brain, impossible.
They're coming, and her gaze drifts out to the encroaching sea, hiding monsters beneath its placid surface, beneath the calming blue and the gently rolling waves, in the deep caverns where water is the sky and the ground is shadow and horror. Darkness leaps out of the fog and for a moment she sees what is not there, what is not real; a dark tentacle writhing across her field of vision. Crackjaw squeals and strikes out with a fragile, white foreleg, punching a divot in the sand where nothing at all eagerly cuts out of the water and tries to ensnare her, and the spray of sand that flies up against her belly makes her leap sideways, hocks pulled up high to avoid the hungry suckers of the hallucinated limb. The jolt of her landing knocks the vision away, but not the terror that makes her heart race and leaves her panting, her prominent ribs stretching dull skin.
"Nah clads. Nah." She bares sharp points of her ragged teeth at him,"Nah." *
One foreleg remains curled beneath her like a nervous dog, the other legs tremble with the strain as her attention finds him again. She has no way to defend her life against monsters except for her inability to die which does nothing to stop her suffering, and though the holes in her memory save her from recalling the tragedy of her life, she doesn't forget her vulnerability. It drives her closer to him, closer, but not enough to touch because he is not her benevolent night-sky friend, and it is surely unwise to touch a god without permission.
"Help?"
Her broken head tilts to one side, unsure what he means. She can't picture what a crab might be, but it must be something terrifying if he is worried about them, and the thin mare yanks her muzzle back from its low place, pulls it high and tight to her narrow neck, golden eyes shining bright with a new concern. What awful things they must be capable of if this god of the Dawn has come to warn her against them? Her skin shudders. She had been so sure this was a good place, and starry Aedan raises his family here. Do the crabs not come for them? She wavers, wonders if she can find her way back to the safety of his nesting place. The path she has traveled feels lost in a fog, in the mire of her brain, impossible.
They're coming, and her gaze drifts out to the encroaching sea, hiding monsters beneath its placid surface, beneath the calming blue and the gently rolling waves, in the deep caverns where water is the sky and the ground is shadow and horror. Darkness leaps out of the fog and for a moment she sees what is not there, what is not real; a dark tentacle writhing across her field of vision. Crackjaw squeals and strikes out with a fragile, white foreleg, punching a divot in the sand where nothing at all eagerly cuts out of the water and tries to ensnare her, and the spray of sand that flies up against her belly makes her leap sideways, hocks pulled up high to avoid the hungry suckers of the hallucinated limb. The jolt of her landing knocks the vision away, but not the terror that makes her heart race and leaves her panting, her prominent ribs stretching dull skin.
"Nah clads. Nah." She bares sharp points of her ragged teeth at him,"Nah." *
One foreleg remains curled beneath her like a nervous dog, the other legs tremble with the strain as her attention finds him again. She has no way to defend her life against monsters except for her inability to die which does nothing to stop her suffering, and though the holes in her memory save her from recalling the tragedy of her life, she doesn't forget her vulnerability. It drives her closer to him, closer, but not enough to touch because he is not her benevolent night-sky friend, and it is surely unwise to touch a god without permission.
"Help?"
@[Gale]
*translation: No crabs. No. No.
Also, i hate that you can say Ps with your tongue because it makes it look like I forgot she doesn't have a bottom lip lmao