[ WP-002 ] Fierce Warrior

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kuropeco
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[ WP-002 ] Fierce Warrior

Post by kuropeco »

[imgright]http://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/image ... uncert.png[/imgright]

He was dreaming again.

The fields smelled of sunlight; a hot, dusky scent that filled his nostrils, something burnished and bold. He was once more surrounded by unfamiliar kin, the rest of them milling about with slow footsteps, noses in the grass as they searched for - something. He didn't know what. Grass brushed against his flank, a rustling noise filling his ears as a wind ghosted through, rippling past him as he stood still in the fields.

Like the previous dream, this one, too, felt wild and uncontained, the edges all blurred. But the blurs felt a little less prominent this time, a little less dulled around the edges; if he squinted and concentrated hard enough, he might have been able to see everything more clearly, but this made his head spin and he was in danger of losing himself to the dream. He stopped, a breath escaping and flitting away, caught on the breeze so that no one would have heard him had he truly been there.

(Was he there? He didn't know.)

Fierce's footsteps mimicked those around him, following as they went in circles around the obelisk, though his were softer, muted, barely heard against the compacted dirt under his hooves. His heartbeat felt louder, somehow, blood in his ears as he traced patterns and lines, circling alongside a doe with a dark mane that he didn't recognize.

He didn't know why he was doing this, but he couldn't stop himself. He kept moving, twining between tall grass and waving, feeling his body aching as though he had run a thousand steps. Fierce had not made the same journey as those who had taken it upon themselves to reach the second obelisk, but it nonetheless felt as though he had, everything in him exhausted, weary, worn out like he, too, had traipsed all the way out into the plains. His eyes were watery with the strain of keeping them open; a contradiction in terms to his closed eyes in the waking world.

(Or was this the waking world, and everything else was a dream?)

Step by step, he traced their paths until at length something happened and the obelisk glowed, so bright that it nearly hurt to look at. Fierce drew towards it as though called, lingering so near to it that all he would need to do would be to lean forward and touch his nose against its smooth surface. The desire to do so felt so powerful that for a moment he could think of nothing else, his heart pounding, everything inside of him yearning for something he did not understand.

He moved away.

He closed his eyes.

The Ache consumed him, filling his mind and his body, pressing in on him so that it was all he could think of. He did not remember going home. He did not remember even getting up. He remembered the pain and the weariness, so deep that it burned into his bones, rattled around in his chest with a dull roar that filled his ears. Sleep came in fits and starts and then, at long last, he was home. He was home, and he was asleep and he was going to sleep for a very, very long time.

He woke up.


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