[ Post a Response | Desreal ]
Posted by the wraith on February 1, 2009, 6:34 pm, in reply to "I'll always be there looking over your shoulder ;; <i>to Severus</i>" “What we need is hatred. You idiot, you were supposed to be watching them! Severus paced feverishly through the forests of Desreál, buffeted into translucency by winds that mirrored his turbulent mood. The shard (it had never been his – not really), a numb and icy weight in the soft part of his throat, fed his paranoia with surgical precision, its wrath tearing through his mind despite its (and his) newfound weakness. “I couldn’t,” he muttered under his breath to the empty forest, biting his lip. I couldn’t - they were there, I couldn’t! The shard scoffed, its scathing certainty thick in his mind. Don’t make excuses for your incompetence! Just heal me. It made things sound so easy. He hated it, and at the same time got the impression it enjoyed being hated by its keeper. Why? he challenged weakly. The shard’s sudden quiet was enough to interrupt his automatic pacing. Then, If you don’t, they’ll kill you. The Wraith whipped around at the sound of the unfamiliar horse’s voice, nearly disappearing in the moment it took for paranoia to make way for sense. His gray eyes narrowed with unrepressed scorn. “It’s a forest, you moron.” Perhaps it was bad fortune that the stranger had chosen the worst possible time to approach him (after all, fear and anger and tension hovered palpably in the air, and the shard sat heavily on his mind like the inescapable shackle it was). In truth, though, his irritation was inevitable. Even in a good mood – which is so very rare for him – he absolutely abhors his own kind (not because, like supposedly evil horse #19392.2a, he wants to rule the earth, but rather because he cannot relate and so refuses to try). Instinctively he guarded his throat, possessive even now of the thing he so deeply hated. Jantz couldn’t know what it was, couldn’t even possibly know anything like it existed, but Severus’ suspicion was absolute. The shard was right. If he knew, he might kill to get it.
71.244.13.86
From it, our ideas are born.”
- the wraith.
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