Posted by Sterling on March 4, 2009, 3:22 am, in reply to "Mandala destroyed by the sea"
210.11.161.202

His water comes out in rivers and gushes. It finds exists from his mouth and pores, and leaps across the rocks and sand, as he stands there. Sterling could not believe his green hazel eyes. There was no-one here but him and the walls of water across the rocks. But then he smells them. The elements and cat, the teeth and blood, and husk of fire and destruction. In the moments that follow, these animals are irrelevant. They hiss and screech and prowl. Sterling knows they are figuring a way to get to him, to hiss across the waves that tumbled and beat either side of him. The waves that had his attention, and made the ravenous cavities all but second threats. Before him, was his affair, the ocean. They arched and screamed and roared and thrashed. Doom was imbedded in every ripple, in every fleck of foam. Smashing into the rocks with a fury that completely escaped Sterling. He was breath taken, as his water cries back like a warrior. It was a different entity now – his water - it roared and shrieked and leaped in furious bounds, crashing into the ocean that hissed and thrashed back. It was beautiful. Sterling stands on the rocks, his hooves -smooth from the desert - splashing with every step, deep puddles and grooves in the slippery rocks. The cats pounce and purr and growl with hunger, but it’s lost to the sound of the equally ravenous ocean. Sterling doesn’t slip, oh no of course he doesn’t slip. His water holds him there, this ferocity and love and awe, it contains him, and his dark mane and tail are hardly anything anymore. They slide and slip down his body in rivers and torrents. He is balanced on the ledge of the rocks and cannot close his eyes – not even to blink – as the waves crash around him (still, seemingly the only thing between him, and the creatures that made Solira barren). His water keeps most of them at bay with it’s own barriers; it spurts from his sides, and veers them away, foaming at his joints. And then he feels it. Suddenly fear over takes him, and the silver buckskin wants to run. Run far, far away, with the knowledge he should not be here, that he should not have left her. He should not have left for this. Not have had everything he wanted in the desert, and then be in this situation. How could he be so stupid? I would have trusted me, His water is smug and now feels wrong and muddy in his body, it is teasing and gleeful and keeping him here. His breath comes sharp as he can feel the swell. Oh swell makes it sound so minimal, what an understatement! Even these creatures that steam and stalk, keep at bay with the feeling through the rocks. It reared and wailed in front of him! It was rough and tearing and screaming and bawling and horrid and harsh and thick, and dark, and everything, everything that screamed ‘great abyss’. And he knew, knew that his water would not block this one. Sterling knew this because his water stretched out. Paws and claws and nails of love and lust and hunger stretched for the wave (much like the fire-wielding animals), as it lowered over Sterling…. …and he could not move. His breath is heavy as his haunches slip on the rocks, in his pull against this element that plagued his body, that was ruining his body. “You told me I would go back home!” His voice is harsh and hysterical and he is torn between watching this looming kismet, and looking back, looking behind him, looking back to let Hypatia know that he didn’t do this, that he didn’t mean it. “Picnics and sunshine and family and love and all of that you said…” His voice is desperate and broken and creaking, “You said I could go home,” But here is your home, Sterling. You should have been here… “No, I should be with Hypatia!” His voice is desperate and it cracks and breaks and he is, in that moment, younger than he was the first time he set eyes on the Viper queen, touched the Viper queen. Younger than when he fell down his first sand dune, than when met his first Viper, horse and snake. Younger than when he first met his element. His element that cackles and yearns and calls for this impending doom, and parts him from Hypatia. Forever It crowed happily, as he stands there – in all his soaked glory. “Forevereverever” How glorious it would be, if the look on his face was not the deepest onset of terror. If he didn’t scream and fight. He has the colour of dark bones. With the water through his coat, shadows ran thick, blended his beige body, brown legs, thick along his rump that was staggered towards the ground, haunches half-askew. Tail and mane slicked against every muscles that bulged with the desperation, that was lined through ever bone of him, to run. He thinks of Hypatia. What else would he think about? She had become his reason for everything. For a split second he wonders what would have happened if he had chosen fire. His water just laughs. And with the thoughts of running, he thinks of chasing her. With a desert on fire under her reign, fire of pride and love and fury. Sterling wants to go home and chase her across the desert, in the middle of the night under the stars, with laughter and love. Sterling wants to make columns of steam rise from their bodies. Sterling wants to watch his child grow. Here he wonders, seeing the reflection of the cats in the gleaming dark waves, if being a victim to their burning breaths and searing teeth and claws would be a kinder fate, something less cruel. This moment quickly passes. When the wave hits him, he is looking over his shoulder. He is looking for the desert - he is looking for her... for them. And he is so sorry, so, so sorry, he ever wanted to see the ocean. As expected when the wave’s body has fallen back to the ocean and caught in the crevices and potholes of rocks, the silver buckskin is not there. What soon comes, is slicks of tar as the felines prowl. Their bodies sweep with ashes and coal, mingle into slime on the ground, hiss with flickers of steam, it causes bubbles of oil, and slicks of vapour. The cats, disgruntled at the prey-pinching waves, slink away to poison the rest of the ocean.                                                                        and to my surprise my eyes were w i d e . a n d a l r e a d y o p e n…                                   just my nightstand and my dresser where those                                 n i g h t m a r e s h a d j u s t b e e n … 55 Message Thread: Erase yourself and you'll be free - Sterling March 4, 2009, 3:21 am Mandala destroyed by the sea - Sterling March 4, 2009, 3:21 am All we are is coloured sand - Sterling March 4, 2009, 3:22 am i didn't want to be free, i just wanted you ; - OC HYPATIA March 5, 2009, 9:49 am It isn't my sorrow, but I still mourn. - Amelia March 10, 2009, 12:54 am « Back to thread What Do You Have To Say? Hosted for FREE by Boardhost. Create your own free message board!