no new friends, but some old fiends! [numair, day 1, (3)]
Jun 23, 2023 17:20:03 GMT -5
Post by arx on Jun 23, 2023 17:20:03 GMT -5
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NUMAIR
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He feels nearly invisible as spores create clouds that clutch at his ankles and cling to his lungs until he coughs, chokes. Above him he can see a gryphon of gold circling; Numair wasn't sure how to get The Royal Highness to come down and understood if they didn't want to anyway. "Want some of my- this? It's- not bad actually? Tastes a bit like tuna." A very aggressive flap of the wings told him all he needed to know. Alright. "More of a birder, huh?"
And so he trekked on, making sure to keep himself hidden within whatever he was breathing and the various different kinds of fungal growth, undergrowth, and decay. It was a strange place, the soil and mosses almost seemed to glow beneath his weight and within his trail of shadow.
His fears of the Rose Plague are starting to get to him as his adrenaline starts to wear off and fatigue begins to clutch at his muscles, bones. His eyes still feel so...
He blinks and rubs at his eyes until he has to cough, wiping at tears and hoping Ulysses really actually for real hadn't poisoned him. The Beast had gotten lower in the sky, pupils so full that it made Numair even more certain this was death.
"Wh- Who- Who's there?!"
Fuck. His voice sounded so broken and small; he hated when that happened. Plus he'd been far louder than he had meant to be in his panic, whirling too quick and sucking air through his teeth with an angry hiss. "I know it's not you. I know it's- I know."
"I know."
"Careful with these things." Numair shifts, ears perked. "They'll fuck with your head."
"Who? What?"
"Come out, come out."
He begins to speak, but his throat closes. No.
"Best start running, boy."
And so he does.
And so he trekked on, making sure to keep himself hidden within whatever he was breathing and the various different kinds of fungal growth, undergrowth, and decay. It was a strange place, the soil and mosses almost seemed to glow beneath his weight and within his trail of shadow.
And that's really what it looked like, as if his soul were simply being lifted to the surface for this strange world to leech it away.
His fears of the Rose Plague are starting to get to him as his adrenaline starts to wear off and fatigue begins to clutch at his muscles, bones. His eyes still feel so...
dark?
and so blurred?
He blinks and rubs at his eyes until he has to cough, wiping at tears and hoping Ulysses really actually for real hadn't poisoned him. The Beast had gotten lower in the sky, pupils so full that it made Numair even more certain this was death.
"My darling."
"Wh- Who- Who's there?!"
Fuck. His voice sounded so broken and small; he hated when that happened. Plus he'd been far louder than he had meant to be in his panic, whirling too quick and sucking air through his teeth with an angry hiss. "I know it's not you. I know it's- I know."
"I know."
"Careful with these things." Numair shifts, ears perked. "They'll fuck with your head."
"Who? What?"
"Come out, come out."
He begins to speak, but his throat closes. No.
"Best start running, boy."
And so he does.
