07-12-2009, 10:20 PM
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rawr! sorry mine is shorter >>; 440 words.
Princess was standing on the top of a tree, teetering in the violent winds around her. Except then it wasn't just a tree, it was a volcano, and even if she didn't fall off it was going to erupt any minute and kill her. Ares was too far away for her to hear, he was shouting and she didn't look, didn't see him, couldn't see him. And he couldn't get closer, he was trying to run but his paws wouldn't move, the ground was sticky like glue and his paws were slipping on the dust, being sucked in like quick sand... Ares woke up, startled out of his nightmare by the very horrors in it. He was disoriented, and it was too warm, too warm inside the manor. He stumbled outside, gasping in the fresh air, only to be thrown back into the confusing images at the scent of his sister tickling his nose.
One hand, balled up into a sweaty fist, knuckled his eyes, trying to wake up, but the scent wouldn't dislodge itself from his nose. With it wafted the scent of Dahlia de Mai, and upon realizing that Ares actually stopped to consider that maybe Princess was here, could be here. His memory wouldn't have been able to so intricately intertwine those scents together, could it? He walked, slowly and hesitantly, towards the scent, not sure if he actually wanted to find out if the trail was a hallucination or not.
If it wasn't her, he wasn't any better or worse off than before. Still the nightmares. The insecurity, the guilty, etc etc. But he was dealing with that, sort of. By ignoring it, most of the time, which worked (ish). If it was her... he'd have to face the fact that he'd been living here almost a month, and hadn't sought her out. A month, and he hadn't been to the Dahlian territory more than once, before he made a home of Crimson Dreams. Would she think he didn't care about her? Guilt twisted and roiled, chewing up his insides. Because that wasn't true. Ares loved her. It was just.. his mother.. he felt so fucking helpless!
But nope. That was definitely her. Different though she might be, it was his sister. Shifted, and it was in some weird way stranger to see her shifted than to shift himself. God, how big she had gotten! But of course. It'd been months. He was probably bigger too, it was hard to tell though, hard to accurately judge one's own size in the rippling reflection of a lake. "Princess?" He said stupidly, staring at her blankly with his tired, haunted yellow eyes.
Princess was standing on the top of a tree, teetering in the violent winds around her. Except then it wasn't just a tree, it was a volcano, and even if she didn't fall off it was going to erupt any minute and kill her. Ares was too far away for her to hear, he was shouting and she didn't look, didn't see him, couldn't see him. And he couldn't get closer, he was trying to run but his paws wouldn't move, the ground was sticky like glue and his paws were slipping on the dust, being sucked in like quick sand... Ares woke up, startled out of his nightmare by the very horrors in it. He was disoriented, and it was too warm, too warm inside the manor. He stumbled outside, gasping in the fresh air, only to be thrown back into the confusing images at the scent of his sister tickling his nose.
One hand, balled up into a sweaty fist, knuckled his eyes, trying to wake up, but the scent wouldn't dislodge itself from his nose. With it wafted the scent of Dahlia de Mai, and upon realizing that Ares actually stopped to consider that maybe Princess was here, could be here. His memory wouldn't have been able to so intricately intertwine those scents together, could it? He walked, slowly and hesitantly, towards the scent, not sure if he actually wanted to find out if the trail was a hallucination or not.
If it wasn't her, he wasn't any better or worse off than before. Still the nightmares. The insecurity, the guilty, etc etc. But he was dealing with that, sort of. By ignoring it, most of the time, which worked (ish). If it was her... he'd have to face the fact that he'd been living here almost a month, and hadn't sought her out. A month, and he hadn't been to the Dahlian territory more than once, before he made a home of Crimson Dreams. Would she think he didn't care about her? Guilt twisted and roiled, chewing up his insides. Because that wasn't true. Ares loved her. It was just.. his mother.. he felt so fucking helpless!
But nope. That was definitely her. Different though she might be, it was his sister. Shifted, and it was in some weird way stranger to see her shifted than to shift himself. God, how big she had gotten! But of course. It'd been months. He was probably bigger too, it was hard to tell though, hard to accurately judge one's own size in the rippling reflection of a lake. "Princess?" He said stupidly, staring at her blankly with his tired, haunted yellow eyes.