wayward
Barely escaping death was not something that happened on a regular basis for the behemoth. Her starry pelt was thoroughly soaked in seawater, though she was only now beginning to feel it. She'd passed out halfway through her little swim to the islands far off in the distance, and it was astounding that she hadn't simply sunk beneath the salty waves and drowned. However, here she was, sprawled out across the pallid sands. With a low, rumbling groan, her crown reared up to cast her rosy gaze about the area around her. The sun, now high above, was baking the salt of the ocean into her glorious coat. Normally this would infuriate the celestial titan, but she couldn't find it in herself to care altogether much. Exhaustion had taken hold of her very bones, and something nagged at her mind. Mithras. Where was he? Energy was found, somewhere deep in her body, and she hauled herself to her feet. Her crown whipped to and fro, her every movement frantic. "Mithras!" She bellowed, vocals hoarse with abuse by the marine air. Every line in her immense body was taut as a bowstring, and she was all but in despair. Where has he gone? Another, desperately louder cry of her brother's name breached the air, croaking from her jaws. She bounded to the farthest end of this tiny island she'd found herself on, a mere sandbar, and searched the horizon for a familiar form. Nothing. Whirling around, she roared for him in the other direction. She'd already lost her baby brothers, she wouldn't lose him too. Determination claimed her, and her gaze hardened. Shaking as much of the sea from her pelt as she could, she sought out the nearest land mass. She would await him there, and seek him out if he did not show here soon. It was a fair distance from where she was now, this new place. Worry set itself upon her. There was no hope for her of getting there before the sun set, not with her body so battered as it was now. With an inaudible whine of discontent, the strength drained from her frame and she dropped harshly onto the sand. Shelter needed to be found, but first, she would rest for a while, take stock of any injuries. Her crown swung about to fix her glare on the horizon from which she'd come, eyes rolling irritably. "Se razbira, vtoriot nie navistina treba da se držime zaedno, toJ isčeznuva. Krvava orev." She grumbled, shaking her head a few times. With a sigh, the colossal femme began to get to work cleaning the ocean from her pelt. The sand and salt were beginning to itch, and there was no way she'd put up with that much longer. As well, it would get her mind off of the turmoil within her chest. Translation: Of course, the second we actually need to stick together, he disappears. Bloody walnut.
"Speech" |