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Post by catorb on Sept 17, 2016 12:25:09 GMT -6
Algren | Aodh | Servile Slave
At a loud shout from a much to familiair voice, Algren's head swung around to confirm his fear. When his eyes caught the scene of Illidis being brought down, he halted immediately. His hooves sliding over the stone floor for a bit before he could truly regain his footing. "ILLI!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, is sore throat cracking his voice. As if in slow motion, he saw the two equine fall to the ground, the wild pygmy dragon flapping it's wings to keep balance, it's eyes wide and mouth agape.
The colt mustered strength, he didn't know he had left, to power his legs. He ran for his housemate, in a more leap-like gait then a gallop. But before he could reach the 3 struggling bodies, the trained pit-fighter rolled over the lizard, who let out a shocked cry. "Illidis!" Algren called again, while the stallion got to his feet.
"Keep going!"
Illidis' snapping shout scared Al for one moment. It was as if the stallions eyes were alight. Either with anger or fear.
Algren looked back at the others running, then back to the two slaves getting up. His steps nervous, while waiting. He was not leaving Illidis. The only remotely familiair thing in this god forsaken place, the only family like figure among all these animals. He was not gonna let himself get separated from him!
Surely the paint stallion would protest again, but frankly, he didn't care right now. The colt stayed on his toes, ready to spring into a gallop again when the two adults would. But the mare didn't. She watched the downed, crippled dragon, as if the chaos around them wasn't happening. As the paint pit-fighter trotted over to Al, the colt started to move as well, but somewhat keeping his eyes on the slave mare. Illidis blocked his view from what she did, but the colt knew full well what it meant. Then his eyes caught the blood that was seeping from the open wounds on Illidis' back, and the embers in his coat on his shoulder. Without a word the roan colt brushed his head along the stallions neck, while trotting, in a sort of awkward hug gesture. Illdis wasn't dead, he was still right here...
Soon, their trot, turned quicker, and then back into a steady gallop again. They'd have to get back with the others, if they wanted to have a chance in leaving this world ablaze.
Post: 8
Words: 411
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Post by Moose-On-Ice on Sept 18, 2016 6:57:36 GMT -6
Illidis | Pit Fighter | Aodh "In the end what separates a man from a slave? Money? Power? No, a man chooses, and a slave obeys." -Andrew Ryan, Bioshock
"ILLI!"
The pitfighter's head snapped up to stare at his housemate nearby. Oh Ignacio, Algren, no, go back to the group! Illidis stared at the colt who was just dancing nearby. Oh Ignacio, keep them safe if Algren wouldn't go on... The grullo pitfighter started forward again, with a small limp on the injured leg. He looked to the mare now to see if she was up. And he was almost startled by the fact she wasn't coming forward with them. But she was going back. To the downed dragon. Oh... Illidis swallowed thickly, tasting nothing but ash and rubber. He moved to Algren as quickly as he could, and hesitantly blocked his view of the mare and dragon with himself. He didn't need to see that. No one needed to see that. Much less actually do it. He felt intense respect, and pity, for the mare. The emotions she would be feeling... He'd had those feelings long ago just by trying to hit things. Actually taking a life, no matter show small... He didn't envy what she would do.
Illidis's ears twitched at the sickening 'snap', and the murmur of "I'm so sorry,". Then it was over. The thing was put out of its misery at least. Illidis glanced back at the mare, seeing if she would come now. He was horribly relieved at her jogging to catch up, and then the grullo froze slightly at a soft gesture along his neck. He looked down at Algren with a slight curious look, despite the situation. What was that? Was that a... Hug of sorts? He would ask about that later, for now they needed to catch up. But the lingering feeling of the gesture stuck with him. He gently pressed his muzzle to Algren's neck in a response before he focused again on the situation.
Ignore the burning pain in his shoulder, ignore the fact it hurt to put weight on that leg, ignore all of that that was useless. He couldn't afford to zone out again and get attacked by yet another dragon. He had to stay alert. "Keep close." He softly said to Algren, his ears flicking rapidly to try and monitor everything. He knew Al most likely wouldn't wander off, but he couldn't help saying the phrase. It soothed his nerves a little just to say it. He could keep Algren safer if he was close. The pitfighter bit down hard on the rubber in his mouth to fight through the pain that increased along with their speed. He could deal with that later. They had to escape alive first. Away from the dragons.
Word Count: 438 Words; Post 8
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Post by mariahwhy on Sept 21, 2016 11:32:20 GMT -6
Ozzer | Breim | Outsider
The smell of burnt hair and skin stung Ozzer's nostrils, but he didn't turn around until the sudden sound of clattering hooves and colliding bodies. He skidded to a halt, and whipped around. His eyes widened at the horrible sight of the slaves entangled on the ground with one of the dragons. He jumped forward to try and help, but before he could even get close the paint rolled over. The donkey couldn't help but wince at the dragon's plight. But it was them or the dragons, and he was just glad that the paint was large enough to successfully incapacitate it. Had anyone else tried the same thing it might have just carried them off. He couldn't help but stare at the dragon's broken body for a moment before Illidis's voice brought him around. "Keep going!""Come on," he said to the others, shepherding them away from the awful sight. As he bodily turned Daisuke, he caught sight of the mule approaching the dragon out of the corner of his eye. It became obvious to him what she planned, and he quickly pushed his head against his son's, forcing his gaze away. But there was no way to block out the sound of the crunching bone, and he could only break into a canter trying to escape the gruesome scene. After they were some ways away he turned to briefly glance at the two slaves. The paint had obviously gotten the worst of the injuries. His shoulder ripped open, and it would need to be bandaged as soon as they reached shelter. But the striped mare was also looking a little worse for wear, and he focused once more on their path. Fires roared around them, and the smoke was heavier than ever. It was becoming hard to breath, particularly at their fast pace, and he couldn't see far around them. Everything was getting heavy and weirdly muffled. The cries of dragons sounded around them, but whether they were in the distance or simply blanketed by the smoke he couldn't tell. He vaguely remembered the path that he took through the streets, but it was as if he was on autopilot. He moved at a consistent pace, only slowing when those with more serious injuries seemed to be wearing down. His mind, though, was completely focused on trying to overcome the fog around them and listen for any other dragons. At one point one of the reptiles flew overhead, but if it noticed the group it gave no sign. They were nearing the edge of the city, but things seemed… wrong. Ozzer had expected that, as they approached the outskirts of the cavern, they would hear the voices of others that had gathered or fled outside of the raging fires. But he heard no voices, and saw no other horses. As he climbed the slope that led up to the caverns exit he saw why. The opening had collapsed, the hole now filled with broken rocks, no doubt shaken down during the tremors caused by the explosion. He stared at it helplessly for a moment, before turning to the others. He met their eyes one by one, not saying anything, feeling that he had failed them. After everything they had been through. He looked out over the city, or… he would have if he could have seen through the grey clouds billowing around them. There was nothing for it – he had to open up his tremor sense again. He felt out around them. The hooves of his companions. The low hum of unstable, burning buildings - one would fall every now and then. There were small steps, he thought they might be dragons, here and there throughout the wreckage. But then… he felt a lot of hooves. He closed his eyes, trying to visualize where in the city they were all gathering. It took him a moment before he realized it must be the palace. The palace! He suddenly felt like a total fool. In his blind panic he had led the group through the burning city, instead of taking them to the fire-proof stone of the King’s headquarters. He grumbled at himself for a moment, before opening his eyes and looking back around the group. “Obviously we can’t escape through this tunnel,” he said. “And the other exit is too far away… on the other side of the city. But,” he quickly added, before they could begin feeling too hopeless. “The palace is fairly close. We can mostly travel along the outside of the city to get there. Others have gathered there, and I’m sure, being the palace, they have horses fighting the fires and smoke and offering assistance.” He tried to look out once more, still unsuccessfully, over the smoke-covered city. “I’m sorry that I could not get you out of here, but I’m sure there will be other Aodhians,” he looked directly at the slaves and the noble, “gathered at the palace. They will get you home.” And then this will all be over with, he thought tiredly. (Post 7: 849 words) |
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Post by mariahwhy on Sept 21, 2016 11:34:13 GMT -6
Checkpoint 3: You have managed to fend off the dragon’s long enough for them to lose interest and return to their owners. Yet a few in your party are sporting nasty burns and all have left with some mark of the event. Limp your way back to the Palace, where most have gathered to escape the fires and seek treatment for the injured. |
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Post by catorb on Sept 22, 2016 3:18:22 GMT -6
Algren | Aodh | Servile Slave
Things seemed to have slowed down more, somehow... calmed down more. It seemed that the dragons had given up on the chase, and so the panicked galloping of the group from earlier was replaced with a steady canter. Their guide donkey upfront, who seemed to navigate much more directly and confident now, since the worst had seemed to have passed. Although, danger was obviously still present. Raging fires, thickening smoke, and subtle cries of dragons nearby. They were still far from save, but the instinctive, panicking feelings had left Algren. He kept close to Illidis, who was having some issues keeping up, most likely due to his wounds. His gait troubled and retained. But still, it amazed Al how much this stallion was pushing himself trough. They would need to find a medic soon though, for both the pitfighter and the slave mare. Her wounds glistened in the fire light, fresh and bare. The ashes that were softly trickling down would surely cause for infections.
Slowly but surely their path started to lead up. 'The exit!' Algren thought excitedly, as he remembered their decent when entering the caverns that morning. They would finely get out, into the open air, and could return home. But the sudden halt had his hart drop. The road led into a immense pile of rubble, that blocked the way completely. He caught their guide's worried look, as he scanned over their faces. Algren nervously suckled his bridle, uncertain of what would happen next. Were they going to dig themselves out? There must be another exit, right?
After a long pauze, their guide spoke. Making note of the obvious, but also telling them about the other possibilities. He suggested they'd travel to the palace for help and safety. Although Al disliked the idea of turning back, and having to travel once more through all the ruble and fires, he felt more then eager to head out and find this save heaven. He gave the donkey a curt nod of acceptance, and moved aside to let him pass, to once again lead their group.
This time, their road didn't lead through the main city and it's plazas, but through smaller caverns, which rarely showed any homes or shops. Most were simply roads, some of the walls studded with Breim's famous crystals. Somehow, the lights the crystals gleamed with, gave the idea of a warm feeling. It contrasted against the cool climate within the caves. The walls of the small caves had their hooves echo, but that was practically all that could be heard. The group mainly traveled in silence. Algren felt too tired to speak himself. He simply wanted to reach this destination, tend to their group's wounds, and then rest.
Soon, though, more roads merged together, and the cave mounds became bigger, higher. Algren saw how their guide and his son knew which turns to take with ease, their movements confident and steady. Surprisingly, without much trouble, they had reached the main city once more, this time from a different entrance. It gave a clear overview of the destruction in the palace plaza below. Algren looked at one point in particular, where he stood not long ago, quietly listening to the king's speeches. His gaze turned the opposite way, and fell on the magnificent build that was Nariah's palace. "We're almost there." He softly said to Illidis, who's wounds had reddened his white coat terribly. "Then we'll be able to take care of you."
He started his canter once more when the grouped continued their venture to reach the palace. The roan colt kept a strong hold on this relieving sigh he didn't allow himself to let go. They were still not within the palace walls, and he wouldn't dare letting his guard down until their were. Somewhere, deep in his stomach he felt a small bile of dread forming, and he quietly prayed to Argus that they, the Aodhiens of their group, would be let inside...
Post: 9
Words: 661
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Post by Moose-On-Ice on Sept 23, 2016 20:41:04 GMT -6
Illidis | Pit Fighter | Aodh "In the end what separates a man from a slave? Money? Power? No, a man chooses, and a slave obeys." -Andrew Ryan, Bioshock
Illidis tried his hardest to block out the pain in his shoulder and the crimson liquid staining his white fur a pale red. They were so close. They had gone so far. He could push a little more, he could get to the end. Even with his injuries, he still kept up his job of watching the stumbling, swaying noble and nudged him back to the group whenever he strayed. It was his job to protect them. He stumbled a few times, his shoulder giving out from under him. If it had just been the other one instead of this one...
He was terrified that this may put him out of commission for fighting. Permenantly. Then what use would he be to their master? Luciano didn't need another servile slave, especially not one that was crippled. He swallowed down his fear, his ears flattening against his head reflexively. It was too quiet, and that merely made his nerves grow. The smoke was thick and choked him. But he made sure to look for Algren through the smoke and keep close to him. He wasn't losing him.
Their pace slowed and at first it gave Illidis some relief. It helped the pain. But then his stomach dropped at the sight of the collapsed tunnel. No. No, no, no, they... It was... Oh, Ignacio... He stepped closer to Algren, his sides heaving while he huffed from the pain and growing exhaustion. This was not good. His green eyes flicked to their guide and he just tiredly nodded. They had to... Keep going... He swallowed, looking over the entire group. Could they even make it there? They had to try, at the very least.
He reluctantly turned and followed the group, although they went at a slightly slower pace. It was too quiet for him. His adrenaline was still going and he expected to be attacked at any moment. Despite the beautiful crystals around them and the strange serenity of the situation, Illidis took little time to admire it all. He narrowed his field of view, focusing on just following the horse in front of him, on keeping an eye on Algren, and watching the noble. Three simple things. He could do that all.
Somehow, he actually was able to do those things. By the time they got to the palace, he visibly limped with every step and felt like he was about to drop. His coat was stained scarlet. He chewed on the bit in his mouth, his head lowering as the adrenaline wore off and his submissive habits started returning.
"We're almost there.""Then we'll be able to take care of you."
Illidis glanced up at Algren and gave a slight nod, then looked at the stone palace before them. Almost... If they would let them in that was... He let his attention drift from the noble now that they were closer, and he instead pushed himself to make it to the gates. Almost there, almost there... He breathed heavily as they slowed in front of the gates, looking between the group. His gaze drifted to the donkey, not quite meeting his gaze now. "T-Thank you." He got out through the pain. "For helping us." He looked at the gates, shifting closer to Algren. Partially to keep him safe and close, and partially to find comfort from his housemate's presence.
Word Count: 552 Words; Post 9
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Post by fossature on Sept 28, 2016 6:51:19 GMT -6
The shetland tried with every fibre of his being to keep pace with the band, and he was still praying for a second wind to revive his numbing limbs. Every part of him was beginning to feel overworked, especially his ligaments, and a sickening, dry feeling had already unfurled in his chest and gut. He was severely dehydrated- lightheaded, in fact- but that was the least of his worries. His small stature came with small legs, and with each stride the others took, he himself had to take multiple to compensate. You see, Ciel isn't the type of stallion to go working out or jogging in his spare time- or ever, even- and didn't think it unwise to expend his fear-fueled energy all in one go instead of pacing himself so he could keep his speed even. At the beginning he was decently fast, as many of the group members weren't that much larger than him, but his momentum began to falter and he found himself near the tail-end of the band. All sound began to drown itself out, the inconsistent pant of his forced breaths and his sonorous heartbeat dominating all other sounds in his inner ear.
"TURN RIGHT!"
Well, except that one. Something in him snapped and brang him back into reality when the guide's voice penetrated through the muted, blurry mass that was his conscience. It took a second for him to process what Ozzer had just exclaimed, and luckily for him he didn't need to envision an imaginary 'L' to remember which way was right as the equine preceding him all turned off in the correct direction, allowing him to ditch the cognitive process and just go. He momentarily wondered why they were actually turning right, and finally bringing his gaze upward from the cobbled, soiled ground, he wished he hadn't.
His eyes met with the disconcerting scene of the slave mare's hide being seared by the serpentine creature's inferno. He couldn't help himself but to let a 'manly' shriek in spite of the fact that it wasn't him that was in pain; The zonkey mare had blocked the flames from singing his own flesh, although barely, leaving the most done to him being a harsh surge of heat licking at his hooves. However, when the mare fell, he kept going. It felt as if sirens were blaring internally- he needed to get to safety. As sounds of anguish behind him, instinct and blind curiosity told him to turn around to have a gander at what it was about. He watched on unbelieving as the gigantic paint wrestled and marred the dragon as if he had done it all his life. Ciel stumbled backwards, missing a step and almost crashing down.
"By Argus' nine dicks-" He vulgarly cursed, barely more than a whisper, paying no mind to the children. "You're bloody insane."
He wanted to look away, to keep running, but he couldn't. He felt a new emotion surface in light of the display, something he hadn't felt that day. Was it despair? Not quite. Frustration? No... some kind of sick amusement, perhaps? He watched the tearing of flesh, the snake-like movements, the blood painting the soil like art, and shuddered from the thrill. He almost wanted the paint to keep fighting, or at least have more dragons join in. Instantaneously, he remembered something a friend had told him about the culture of Aodhians one morning. Her voice was still a clear, melodic chant in his brain. 'Did you know that they force slaves to fight each other in a bloody pit battle?', she had said. 'Apparently they enjoy watching bloodshed. The sick freaks. As if slaves weren't already bad enough.'
...
Am I a sick freak, too?
The thought that he may even be enjoying the pain that they were going through in the slightest scared him. I'm not like them, his mind screamed, comparing himself with his image of a prissy, spoilt Aodhian who took everything for granted, attempting to drain the amusement entirely by willpower and prejudice alone. I'm nothing like them.
But the more he thought about it, the more the Aodhians in this group mismatched that image. The Aodhians of his brain squealed at a speck of dust floating onto their hooves, so why were these ones different? They were scarred- battle-ready- and unafraid. Yet, before he could uncover the truth about their occupations, the rest of the group headed toward him, so he turned tail and caught up with Ozzer, stealing quick glances at the Aodhians who had suddenly caught his interest. He followed the guide in silence, uncharacteristically keeping his thoughts to himself.
As their plight neared its end, he found himself listening intently to the thankyou's that the assembly of horses were giving to the guide. It warmed him that they were all so appreciative of the donkey, although it also made him feel guilty. This single donkey had saved his life twice now; he'd have to think of something clever to repay him with. He was sure that this would not be the last time their paths would cross. Next time they'd meet, be it by chance or other means, he'd repay the favour. Ciel cleared his throat and licked his lips with a dry tongue.
"... I guess those ears are good for somethin'," He grinned at the donkey, nudging him roughly on the shoulder as a sign of affection. He didn't intend to reminisce on the bad times they'd had together previously, but what's said is said. He wanted to thank the Aodhians for everything they'd done for him, too; Yet he let his pride get the best of him, and he kept silent, although hesitantly- something he'd regret for a long time. Silently praying to King Hajime as if he was a supreme deity, Ciel clumsily skipped to the gates and buckled in relief, uttering phrases of gratefulness and kissing the cold material almost as if he loved it. And, after all they'd been through, he did.
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Post by hey-stardust on Sept 29, 2016 20:57:42 GMT -6
Heroin | Aodh | Servile Slave:
Hey young blood, doesn't it feel
like our time is running out?
Heroin’s grey eyes darted down to her legs when she caught sight of something glistening as she moved, only just now realising they were streaked with blood; though whether it was hers, Illidis’s, or the dragon’s, she could no longer tell.
Trying to distance herself from the thought, she lifted her head up to look down the length of the tunnel, and felt her stomach drop. The mule realised the others had all stayed quite close by, instead of running as they had been told to do… so they would have known what she had done then. Would she be punished for destroying Valorian ‘property’? Would anyone even care to investigate after all that had happened?
Pulling her mind away again from it’s relentless, anxious questions, she instead focused on the way the two slaves comforted one another, and Ozzer with his colt, and felt glad she did not have anyone close to her down here at the sight; for the notion of being unable to protect them, to have to consider taking their life away if they could not be saved, just as she had done to the dragon downright terrified her; but there was also a sense of loneliness there, burning deeply within her gut that she couldn’t shake.
---
Continuing down their path at a less frantic pace suited the group, and they were all able to keep up, despite being a little winded and bloody.
The burned skin her hindquarters had already grown tight, being pulled painfully as she limped at the rear of the group; her nostrils flaring at the affliction. The adrenaline from their plight had well and truly worn off, and everything felt very heavy. Her body was on auto-pilot, fixated and mechanical. the smoke that had once stung her eyes and congested her lungs now simply made her feel tired.
She barely registered the donkey's despair at the sight of the collapsed archways when they reached what was supposed to be an exit, and simply resigned herself to walking further along the ruined halls of Nariah, to whatever fate now awaited them.
Word Count: 354 | Post: #7 |
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Post by catorb on Sept 30, 2016 6:18:40 GMT -6
Algren | Aodh | Servile Slave
The young colt watched in awe as they reached the gates of the grand build. Although surely the rampage of the dragons had affected it as well, it was mostly untouched, and still looking grand, with it's walls adorned with gems, crystals and other delicate craftsmanship details. It was then that Algren noticed several equine already had made it to the palace, as their guide had predicted. Here and there small groups of equine had gathered, along the plateau the palace rested on, along the grand steps and leaving and entering the palace itself. Some, presumingly guards, came trotting trough the tall doors of the build, straight pass them, towards the wreckage below.
The whole group stumbled onto the large steps that led to the palace entrance. Al helped supporting Illidis up the stairs, flattening his ear to the sound of the pitfighter's pain and discomfort. But they were nearly inside. Surely there must be some kind of healer that could help them. Somehow Algren was shocked no one verified them, and they could walk in, just like many other had done before them it seemed. The large halls Algren could see were teeming with equines. Many who seemed battered and covered in soot like them. The roan colt could see trails of blood on the decorated shiny floors, traces of blooded bodies that had been dragged to the adjoining rooms. A constant hum of mumbling and groaning could be heard through the hall, accompanied by shouts and called out orders.
Suddenly Algren felt this heavy weight fall on him, as if his whole body was being pulled to the ground. A mixture of relieve, cede and exhaustion washed over him. They were save. The dragons, the fire, the smoke... it couldn't reach them here. They didn't have to run for their lives anymore. He nearly let out that sigh he had been holding, but suddenly remembered Illidis, and his wounds. And the zebroid mare too.
Carefully Algren stepped away from Illidis, in a fashion that seemed as if he was afraid the paint wound fall over like a unsteady glass vase. But seeing that the stallion didn't just drop to his knees, the colt quickly moved over to a nearby mare. She was quickly passing through the hall, from room too room, tools floating along with her due to her telekinesis. Algren walked along side her swift pace while quickly asking her for help, mentioning towards his group. The stopped, and with a long look, the mare gave him a curt nod and walked over. "Wounded, follow me" she said "The others can head for the courtyard. There will be food and water for you there." Without waiting any longer she continued through the hall, obviously busy with the many other wounded already pressend.
Al quickly trotted back to Illidis's side for support, and eyed the slave mare as well, as he they slowly made their way to the room the 'nurse' had gone too. "I'll stay with you, okay?" Algren told Illidis, not so much asking him for permission, since he was going to stay it anyway. He swallowed to test his throat, and it was still sore. He's better have it checked too, while they were here. He looked back at the other group members, and knew they would all go their own way soon. Right now, he didn't really care to say his goodbye's, as he helped his housemate to the makeshift hospital room. There would be time for that later.
Post: 10
Words: 585
[[OOC: I tried to tie some sort of end to it! They finally reach the palace and get help from this NPC mare and other palace staff. I hope that's all okay!]]
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Post by mariahwhy on Sept 30, 2016 15:50:06 GMT -6
Ozzer | Breim | Outsider
The palace was such a welcoming sight that relief flooded Ozzer's body. Every inch of him suddenly felt so heavy, and he was suddenly aware of the sweat that foamed between his front legs and dampened the rest of his hide. His mind was just as tired as his body, and a headache suddenly began to roar through his ears. He closed his eyes brielfy, but continued to walk. They were so close. Guards and volunteers passed them on their way into the city to search for missing horses. Some groups of horses with blessings could be seen fighting the flames and smoke. Larger groups were gathered around assumed medics, each one being checked over in turn. The small burns from the falling embers itched on Ozzer's back, but he ignored them. They were inconsequential, particularly compared to the wounds of the rest of his group. He nodded to passing horses, some that he knew, and others that he didn't know but greeted in a familiarity that simply exists between survivors of a disaster. Once safely ensconced in the castle grounds, the donkey finally stopped walking. He felt his legs might give out on him, unused as they were to such fast travel, but he remained upright to see his companions off. "You are welcome," he answered Illidis. "And thank you for your bravery against the dragon. We might not all have made it had it not been for you." He gave a tired, but grateful grin. "I hope your shoulder heals up nicely. And," he turned to Heroin, "that your wounds are easily healed as well. I'm sorry that you got so hurt under my guidance." He dipped his head, truly regretful. The trek through the burning city would haunt him for many nights to come. But despite his dampened spirits he couldn't help but give a curt laugh at Ciel's next words. Typically a jest about his ears would be ill received, but in the relief of just being alive he didn't not mind at all. Not to mention that he felt a friendliness towards the stallion that comes out of having survived more than one terrible situation together. "They will always be around to hear when you need saving," he joked back, eyes half-lidded but bright at the chance to laugh. "Perhaps we can cross paths under better circumstances one day, Ciel." He wondered if the stallion would join the efforts of the other doctors and healers, but he wouldn't blame him for wanting to take a moment to rest first. The roan colt approached with the healer just then, her words signaling that it was time for the group to go their own separate ways. Ozzer nodded to the slave colt and the noble, briefly looking the latter over still wondering if he would be ok. The grey still seemed pretty out of it, but he had made it this far. Surely he would be ok, though that trek back to Valore would be a long one. "Safe travels. May the Gods guide you home safely," he said as a general parting to all of the Aodhians. Any other time he would have offered to guide them out of Sirith on their journey home, but right now he had no such plans. Right now he was going to take his son, and rest. He had to make sure they were ok, before helping anyone else. As the Aodhians were led away, he turned to Daisuke. Finally alone with his son, he pressed his forehead gently to the zedonk's. His throat felt hot and dry, and he wondered if his son would process the day's events internally, or if he would eventually begin his constant bombast of questions. For once, he wouldn't have minded if the colt talked his ear off just to know that he would be alright with what had happened. "Let's go get some water," he told Daisuke. "Then, I wouldn't mind sleeping for a long time." He smiled at the colt, and turned towards the volunteers handing out provisions. (Post 8: 676 words) |
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