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Post by nessyo on Apr 25, 2013 12:09:55 GMT -5
Typheous
How quickly everything could turn on it's end. How long ago was it, that he'd been a proud stallion of a herd whose strength and abilities were known and feared far outside the borders of their own territory? Nothing could've touched him then; he had the respect of his peers, he tasted the blood of his prey daily, and it seemed his position in the herd's army would never wane. The only annoyance was the status of respect his brother occupied over himself in their mother's eyes, and he'd even found the solution to that, as well! Nothing could've hurt him.
But then Nocturne had left, and their mother had thought that he had exiled his brother, and had him chased out into exile himself. The hunter had then known what it was to be hunted, to be chased by so many members of his former herd, teeth flashing as they eagerly tried to make him their next meal. He had fresh scabs from where their teeth and hooves had grazed him, and though it had been days ago or longer-- it was hard to tell, with the haze he'd been in since he'd left-- the muscles of his body still ached from that frantic running.
Their hunt was unsuccessful: he was strong, and fit, and clever, and ultimately he managed to escape the boundaries of their power. But he hadn't stopped moving since, even though he was quite convinced that now, with as far as he'd come, the herd could not touch him here.
But where was here, anyway? He did not know this place. It was a forest, like so many other forests, but it felt.. different somehow. Magic was here, lingering heavily in the air in places. It felt like a cloud of heavy air or flies, resting on his back, stinging his open wounds. Or perhaps that was flies. He didn't know. He'd been awake for days, and hadn't eaten since he'd left, and nothing made any sense anymore.
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