07-04-2008, 06:07 PM
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OOC: I know it took forever. I'm sorry for the hold up, guys.
Lubomir shook. His body was shutting down, he knew it. Fighting Deuce, then this coyote, had drained him to the point of exhaustion. Her last exchanges with Skoll, her manner of death, all eluded him. They seemed to pass beyond him and disappear into the cold morning air. He felt like the fog: light, floaty, ghostly white. He could feel his legs giving way, the earth felt so soft beneath his body, his mind shutting down to let in some kind of healing power. His monster, his fiend, opened one lazy yellow eye and grinned at Lubomir. 'You thought you'd play hero again. I wasn't there to save your ass. And what do you do? You charge at her foolishly and nearly get yourself killed.' Lubomir tried to reason with him, to say something, but any possible word he could exhale was just a dapple in the darkness. For it was dark here, dark, cold and lonely. Lubomir knew he's passed out at this point and that he was the prisoner of his other self, of this monster who came out as he pleased. Over which the grey wolf had no control.
Slowly, the edges of this world began to shimmer and he was soon in a green meadow, a green so beautiful and raw he knew he had to be dreaming. The Old Country had never been this green. He couldn't get up, so he simply lay there, until two wolves appeared on the horizon, moving slowly and gracefully, as if they were two feet from the ground, floating. Frigg. One-Eye. He should have known. He even let out a small groan. But they approached silently and soon stood above him and indeed they were floating, such beautiful creatures they seemed, so magical and aloof. His sister was crying. He could see that clearly. One-Eye looked almost over Lubomir's shoulder, to a point on his rump and his expression was blank, but with a hint of disappointment. Painfully, he looked down himself and saw the reason behind their looks: he was dying. Blood seeped from him and turned the beautiful grass a horrid dark red colour. 'You're dying. Brother. Wake up. You're dying.' Her voice. Lubomir quickly glanced at her. She was crying even worse now and One-Eye's expression had not changed. He was dying.
He thought about it. Here, in this haven he was destroying, he could be with them. With his sister and his brother-in-law. And he would let go. Of Skoll, his friend. Of Ember, whom he loved. Of Shadowed Sun, where he belonged. Of all he had achieved, of his great adventure. He could sleep, yes, and rest, and be at one with those he had loved. 'He will blame himself. He is a warrior. Would you like him to blame himself for your death, Varg?' One-Eye was harsher than his mate. He was also a warrior. If he lost one of his own, he would suffer. And Lubomir truly liked Skoll. So why do this to his friend? He looked at his sister and nodded once. She would understand.
When he came to, Skoll was mentioning more fighting. He blinked and picked up Tayui's scent. So she too was here. Slowly, painfully, he got up on all fours, steadying himself and trying not to succumb to the faint again. He was so damn weak, he knew it. He was out of the game for a long while. But if Skoll would push himself, who was Lubomir to act the coward? 'I'm afraid you won't be the only one fighting. You fight, I fight with you, Skoll. Lady Aston, I beg your indulgence for my lack of consciousness. I trust I have no missed much?' His own voice sounded rusty, as if he hadn't used it in a long time. In his head, Lubomir heard the monster chuckle. He chose, wisely, to ignore him. For now.
652 words. Took like 3 days to write it. Grah.
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Lubomir shook. His body was shutting down, he knew it. Fighting Deuce, then this coyote, had drained him to the point of exhaustion. Her last exchanges with Skoll, her manner of death, all eluded him. They seemed to pass beyond him and disappear into the cold morning air. He felt like the fog: light, floaty, ghostly white. He could feel his legs giving way, the earth felt so soft beneath his body, his mind shutting down to let in some kind of healing power. His monster, his fiend, opened one lazy yellow eye and grinned at Lubomir. 'You thought you'd play hero again. I wasn't there to save your ass. And what do you do? You charge at her foolishly and nearly get yourself killed.' Lubomir tried to reason with him, to say something, but any possible word he could exhale was just a dapple in the darkness. For it was dark here, dark, cold and lonely. Lubomir knew he's passed out at this point and that he was the prisoner of his other self, of this monster who came out as he pleased. Over which the grey wolf had no control.
Slowly, the edges of this world began to shimmer and he was soon in a green meadow, a green so beautiful and raw he knew he had to be dreaming. The Old Country had never been this green. He couldn't get up, so he simply lay there, until two wolves appeared on the horizon, moving slowly and gracefully, as if they were two feet from the ground, floating. Frigg. One-Eye. He should have known. He even let out a small groan. But they approached silently and soon stood above him and indeed they were floating, such beautiful creatures they seemed, so magical and aloof. His sister was crying. He could see that clearly. One-Eye looked almost over Lubomir's shoulder, to a point on his rump and his expression was blank, but with a hint of disappointment. Painfully, he looked down himself and saw the reason behind their looks: he was dying. Blood seeped from him and turned the beautiful grass a horrid dark red colour. 'You're dying. Brother. Wake up. You're dying.' Her voice. Lubomir quickly glanced at her. She was crying even worse now and One-Eye's expression had not changed. He was dying.
He thought about it. Here, in this haven he was destroying, he could be with them. With his sister and his brother-in-law. And he would let go. Of Skoll, his friend. Of Ember, whom he loved. Of Shadowed Sun, where he belonged. Of all he had achieved, of his great adventure. He could sleep, yes, and rest, and be at one with those he had loved. 'He will blame himself. He is a warrior. Would you like him to blame himself for your death, Varg?' One-Eye was harsher than his mate. He was also a warrior. If he lost one of his own, he would suffer. And Lubomir truly liked Skoll. So why do this to his friend? He looked at his sister and nodded once. She would understand.
When he came to, Skoll was mentioning more fighting. He blinked and picked up Tayui's scent. So she too was here. Slowly, painfully, he got up on all fours, steadying himself and trying not to succumb to the faint again. He was so damn weak, he knew it. He was out of the game for a long while. But if Skoll would push himself, who was Lubomir to act the coward? 'I'm afraid you won't be the only one fighting. You fight, I fight with you, Skoll. Lady Aston, I beg your indulgence for my lack of consciousness. I trust I have no missed much?' His own voice sounded rusty, as if he hadn't used it in a long time. In his head, Lubomir heard the monster chuckle. He chose, wisely, to ignore him. For now.
652 words. Took like 3 days to write it. Grah.