OOC → <3
He/Macha/Pemtemweha saw the dark shadow there, the lingering form of the Betrayer, of Lugh and Badb and the wing of Darkness. He saw all things - The old war, a battle of a time that stretched cold fingers far beyond the charred pages of the book of this world. The light versus the dark; A wheel that turned, never slowing, never stopping. Always, the war.
They were foes, in that world beyond this one. The brothers had many names, were many things, and would again be. Macha of the light and Badb of the dark. Nemain had kept balance in that place, but here the was no neutral, only the blurring of right and wrong.
Ezekiel's words aggravated the silver beast. Again it tossed its magnificent head, and antlers sliced through warm air, leaving it chilled. Such words were the truth - There was the source of power, a greater power than the forest, than the existence of the world and its mortals, but the stag was only an echo of this; A fragment of a reflection, a small thread in the tapestry. It was a shadow of the true power, and already, form was being taken from it. The beast's cloven hooves were no longer clearly defined - A shimmering of fog, not quite touching the green grown stemmed beneath.
The rustling of ebony feathers caused the stag to retreat a step, but its pale blue eyes whirred with the crackling of time and reality, with the force of the curse that had been cast. "Bhí muid deartháireacha, sa tréimhse ama roimh an am seo," The voice-not-voice pervaded all things, the rustling of the forest as it grew agitated. The silver stag snorted, its form shimmering in the half light as it reared, and towered above the hybrid. "Leat a bheith á ngearradh ar an bannaí, Peacach, agus tá ár n-séalaithe chinniúint. Is é an marc ar do fola!"
The voice ended on a note that held no noise, a deep sound that stemmed from within the soul, a sound of anguish and fury, a feeling from the void beyond the mortal world. With this, the creature lunged forward, a stampede of hooves and slashing antlers that carved at Ezekiel and through Ezekiel, nothing more than the most chilling of winds, something cold enough to freeze the soul. Then, the stag was gone.
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