08-18-2019, 09:27 PM
(This post was last modified: 08-18-2019, 09:37 PM by Neverwhere.)
The first thing she noticed was the laughing, jeering yips that cackled and popped off the seacliffs.
That was a sound that didn’t belong here. Hyenas were a creature that Neverwhere, even in her travels, has not come upon before, and the unfamiliarity draws her closer, curious. Soon, the hard breath and driven drumming of a horse running too hot comes to her ears, thudding below the din of laughter. The dappled mare is alert and tense, but she has travelled alone so long that her first instinct is to freeze and assess, not panic and run. Her eyesight, oddly sharp here, in Nerine, finds the sweat dark stallion running beyond his limits and the yellow-eyed shadows that jeer and snap. Their hulking frames are dark and powerful, but unusual, forehand heavy with dramatically sloping backs and short tufted tails standing straight in the air as they run. A tremor runs across her skin, even without the dense black of their bodies, they seem unnatural, impossible.
She makes no move to stop him, only watches from a small distance away. His rolling eyes suggest he sees nothing, running on fear and adrenaline, and as likely to trip and be swallowed by his shadows as to make it to the cliffs beyond. But how do you stop someone from bolting? Her nostrils flare, the salt-wind bringing the Runner’s scent to her, musk and sweat and fear. The shadows give no scent and the tremor on her skin grows stronger. Magic
It’s always magic.
And there’s always some damn fool...
Neverwhere doesn’t know the golden mare running to meet the stallion, but she’s been here for so short a time that one can hardly be surprised that she doesn’t know a foreigner when she sees one. With a sigh that might strike anyone listening as entirely too composed for the situation Neverwhere leaves her place, picking up a ground-eating pace to catch up. The other mare has no hope of stopping him alone, and is as likely to break their legs in her fool-hardy dash, but together they could run abreast of him and redirect his path, away from the cliffs, until the exhaustion catches up to him.
And the magic? She doesn’t know enough of magic to know if those creatures are even capable of touching them. They only look like shadows, and shadows don’t scare Neverwhere.
She is nearly on them and ready to shout out to the palomino only to press him away from the coming edge with her shoulder, but it is already too late. Before the words can leave her lips, the sun-bright mare has leapt in front of him, eyes shut and bracing, and Neverwhere is hitting the brakes to avoid also becoming entangled in this rat-king of regret and tumbling into the sea.
That was a sound that didn’t belong here. Hyenas were a creature that Neverwhere, even in her travels, has not come upon before, and the unfamiliarity draws her closer, curious. Soon, the hard breath and driven drumming of a horse running too hot comes to her ears, thudding below the din of laughter. The dappled mare is alert and tense, but she has travelled alone so long that her first instinct is to freeze and assess, not panic and run. Her eyesight, oddly sharp here, in Nerine, finds the sweat dark stallion running beyond his limits and the yellow-eyed shadows that jeer and snap. Their hulking frames are dark and powerful, but unusual, forehand heavy with dramatically sloping backs and short tufted tails standing straight in the air as they run. A tremor runs across her skin, even without the dense black of their bodies, they seem unnatural, impossible.
She makes no move to stop him, only watches from a small distance away. His rolling eyes suggest he sees nothing, running on fear and adrenaline, and as likely to trip and be swallowed by his shadows as to make it to the cliffs beyond. But how do you stop someone from bolting? Her nostrils flare, the salt-wind bringing the Runner’s scent to her, musk and sweat and fear. The shadows give no scent and the tremor on her skin grows stronger. Magic
It’s always magic.
And there’s always some damn fool...
Neverwhere doesn’t know the golden mare running to meet the stallion, but she’s been here for so short a time that one can hardly be surprised that she doesn’t know a foreigner when she sees one. With a sigh that might strike anyone listening as entirely too composed for the situation Neverwhere leaves her place, picking up a ground-eating pace to catch up. The other mare has no hope of stopping him alone, and is as likely to break their legs in her fool-hardy dash, but together they could run abreast of him and redirect his path, away from the cliffs, until the exhaustion catches up to him.
And the magic? She doesn’t know enough of magic to know if those creatures are even capable of touching them. They only look like shadows, and shadows don’t scare Neverwhere.
She is nearly on them and ready to shout out to the palomino only to press him away from the coming edge with her shoulder, but it is already too late. Before the words can leave her lips, the sun-bright mare has leapt in front of him, eyes shut and bracing, and Neverwhere is hitting the brakes to avoid also becoming entangled in this rat-king of regret and tumbling into the sea.
Neverwhere
.........
@[litotes] @[Elaina] Neverwhere has arrived to be... not terribly helpful
