A cure for apathy
for Beat
11-07-2019, 12:57 PM
(This post was last modified: 11-07-2019, 01:02 PM by Ásvor.)
Asvor was flying.
However, her currenty journey wasn't at all like the graceful soar of an bird, gliding seamlessly through the sky. The way she was drifting across the flat, vacant field, at least on the exterior, looked quite normal... if not a bit erratic. Her movements were disjointed; one moment she felt as though she was being tugged backwards, and the next she felt like something was propelling her forward.
But on the inside, she wasn't even half as graceful. There was no soaring, there was only stumbling, only the feeling of being frantically propelled toward nothingness. The future somehow, in her current state, seemed infinitely bleak - full of suffering and despair. She'd known somewhere in her heart, for years now, that most of her family was gone... surely her parents weren't alive, and she was certain at least some of her siblings might be long gone now from this physical world, but suddenly that thought seemed terrifying. Perhaps it was the volcano's eruption, coupled with the mushrooms she'd ingested, that made these thoughts somehow surface, but all at once remembering all she had lost felt suddenly suffocating.
Their faces seemed to follow her, peering at her from the corner of her vision, no matter which way she turned. The only solution? More drugs. It was something she rarely did in the presence of even those closest to her, save for her companion, and today she was far enough from home that it seemed like the only viable escape from her dark thoughts. Enough and she would succumb to delirium so brilliantly blinding that she wouldn't feel anything at all, but until then she was left in her current state.
Stumbling, almost blindly, across the field that lay scattered with debris from a life that had no connection to her own. Occasionally she felt her paw graze a piece of broken metal or wood, sharp enough to cut but somehow she managed to cling to enough situational awareness to not injure herself. Yet. Or perhaps it was her bush viper's anxious hissing that steered her away from danger, coiled tightly around one of her forelimbs, the green viper's head draped over her neck loosely, searching ahead of them as Asvor pushed on.
However, her currenty journey wasn't at all like the graceful soar of an bird, gliding seamlessly through the sky. The way she was drifting across the flat, vacant field, at least on the exterior, looked quite normal... if not a bit erratic. Her movements were disjointed; one moment she felt as though she was being tugged backwards, and the next she felt like something was propelling her forward.
But on the inside, she wasn't even half as graceful. There was no soaring, there was only stumbling, only the feeling of being frantically propelled toward nothingness. The future somehow, in her current state, seemed infinitely bleak - full of suffering and despair. She'd known somewhere in her heart, for years now, that most of her family was gone... surely her parents weren't alive, and she was certain at least some of her siblings might be long gone now from this physical world, but suddenly that thought seemed terrifying. Perhaps it was the volcano's eruption, coupled with the mushrooms she'd ingested, that made these thoughts somehow surface, but all at once remembering all she had lost felt suddenly suffocating.
Their faces seemed to follow her, peering at her from the corner of her vision, no matter which way she turned. The only solution? More drugs. It was something she rarely did in the presence of even those closest to her, save for her companion, and today she was far enough from home that it seemed like the only viable escape from her dark thoughts. Enough and she would succumb to delirium so brilliantly blinding that she wouldn't feel anything at all, but until then she was left in her current state.
Stumbling, almost blindly, across the field that lay scattered with debris from a life that had no connection to her own. Occasionally she felt her paw graze a piece of broken metal or wood, sharp enough to cut but somehow she managed to cling to enough situational awareness to not injure herself. Yet. Or perhaps it was her bush viper's anxious hissing that steered her away from danger, coiled tightly around one of her forelimbs, the green viper's head draped over her neck loosely, searching ahead of them as Asvor pushed on.
