Mercy
Slowly, ever so slowly the wave Medea was just barely managing to ride crept to a stop, the girl panting as she stared wide-eyed around her. Her left foreleg was completely buried in the mud and snow, up to her shoulder and while her right foreleg had managed to escape more or less unscathed she had nearly been totally covered, her head just barely free; mud and dirt pressed dangerously high up her neck. Medea closed her eyes, silently praying that it was over, that no more waves would be crashing down on them; as she was now she wouldn't have the energy to keep herself above another avalanche; even if she managed to pull herself free in time. A loud crash of another tree from the ridge tearing free made Madea jump and slowly the adrenaline started to wane, her muscles starting to ache from her desperate swim and she started the arduous task of pulling herself free. It was an agonizingly long process, first, she struggled to liberate her left foreleg. There was much slow rocking on her free leg, grunting and finally after what felt like an eternity she managed to wiggle free, from there it was easier to pull the rest of her free, hefting herself out of the dirt and snow. She shook herself out, dislodging any of the loose dirt in her pelt but she'd need to spend some time really making sure she got clean... but first, she needed to get out of here. Medea glanced around the canyon, trying to figure out how she was going to get out. Then a voice reached her, a howl echoing off the ravine's wall. Medea froze, she'd spent the majority of her life listening to that voice; she'd have known it anywhere and she couldn't stop the tremor of fear that hearing it sent through her. Medea swung her head wildly searching for her brother; she started off on a shaky run, her limbs protesting and she winced but grit her teeth. If her brother was trapped under the mud and snow she had to find him! The echoes of his call made it hard to pinpoint where the howl had come from, but she started to clamber her way up the mudslide. "Pegasus?" Medea called, her voice hoarse and she coughed, her throat must have been coated with dirt and snow but she couldn't stop looking for him. "Peg?" Then there was another howl, muffled but distinct and Medea stopped, it wasn't her brother's voice and she wondered if she'd maybe been mistaken. "Hello?" She called, worry for whoever was calling for her washing over her... she needed to help whoever it was. |
| Art by Atillur |