BLEEDING OUT IN THE COLD AND THE DARK
01-26-2014, 04:58 PM
wounds so deep they never show, they never go away
![](http://i42.tinypic.com/w191s0.png)
The moon was full, fighting it's way through the storm clouds to glow upon the strange world the ebony wraith had wandered into. Everything was bleached to bone white, and it felt unbearably wrong for something so pristinely pale to be draped in shadows. As she stepped out of the bizarre forest of ivory vines and trees, she entered a new world of alien creatures. Immense stones were carved with runes she did not recognize, and they were wrapped in an unearthly glow. Ears would flatten as the rain soaked bodice of the obsidian bitch lowered to creep closer. What the fuck was wrong with all of this? She had evaded the deadly winds by sticking to the creepy forest, but now, out in the open, she was buffeted by them. Her small frame was rocked back and forth by ever changing blows from the gusts of wind hitting her from all directions. Charcoal tipped banner hung loosely at her hocks as she came closer, edging towards the glowing stones with curiosity brimming in her mismatched gaze. As she entered the ensconcing embrace of the boulders ringing around the stream, the wind lessened, but the torrential downpour continued it's onslaught. It was eerily quiet here, and it made the woman uneasy. As she stood tall and gazed down into the glowing waters, a voice called to her. A familiar one, a growling tone that sent shivers down her spine as fury boiled her blood. Tiara would whip up as she snarled at the apparition. "Fuck off." She snarled, directing her hate at the man who so resembled her eldest brother, Hati. "Now, is that any way to speak to your father?" The voice would inquire, chuckling darkly. "I hope you're burning in Hel." She barked, long banner lashing with hatred. "Oh, but of course." The tormenting specter would murmur as it faded away, taunting her one last time. Turning to leave, she marched out to the edge of the ring and looked out upon the alabaster trees being whipped back and forth by the onslaught of wind. Maybe she could wait until it lessened. Sitting down, she fought to bring her hackles back down. Her muscles burned and shook with fury, until she couldn't contain it anymore. She lashed out and struck the stone to her left, dragging her claws down it as the shrieks of pain it voiced burned into her audits. Pulling herself back together, she sat there and let her anger stew.
"Speech"
like moving pictures in my head, for years and years they've played