The Bird Watcher (Silhouette) Aug 13, 2014 20:57:31 GMT -6
Post by Deleted on Aug 13, 2014 20:57:31 GMT -6
|There was, then, a soft touch. It would normally be something felt and forgotten, something inconsequential. Perhaps then it was by contrast that she felt soft, warm pressure at her hoof. It stood out from the lightning blasting through her face, her lungs, her whole body … it stood out through softness, a dandelion grown from the cobblestones, a soft high-octave chord played while ships collided and twisted. She focused as much as she could on that touch as if it would go away if she didn’t. Beach sand found its way into her eyes; the pain just simply wouldn’t stop. She slowly contorted; the touch was going away. She couldn’t feel it anymore, but then she felt the pull somehow. The touch reappeared.|
"… Pop ... please, try to hear me … isn't real. Canterlot never fell. This … nightmare, preying on your fears of what would happen ... It didn't … I can take you back. I can take you home.” She could not think sharply, and so she did not begin to question the matter of what was real or not. Pain was real. But then, she heard it … I can take you back. I can take you home. Home. Home was … her bed, where she kept water next to her on the bedside table in an antique crystal carafe. Home was … the last sip of cooling tea while looking out to the morning twilight and all the world was calm, dark blue on the other side of the glass. Home … “… can't do it without your help..." Finally … for the first time since her world went dark, her mind responded. This was new. It wasn’t a cruelty of the Changelings. They never promised her home; they never even spoke. It was strange it seemed – even for them – to talk to their food.
“H …” She took in deep, fast, urgent breaths. The pain only seemed to get worse as she tried to say something, tried to let that pull guide her. In the end, she slumped again, her foreleg only remaining up by the hold of the other. The pain eased as the cold sand held her and she tried again. “H-Home? I … w-want to go home. P-Please.”