Strange beasts the mud-stained miqo'te did not recognize bounded from the bushes and thick trunks hemming them in, only to buckle and wail, seemingly caught up in the shadows themselves. Each snap of their bones and roar from the forest echoed in his skull and sent a shiver down his ragged tail, which trailed like a banner behind him. He could make out the tall, thin form of the Duskwight ahead, and though the old man seemed to move with an ancient slowness, the unearthed miqo'te struggled to keep up. Roots and vines jutted up from the ground, tripping up his feet as though seeking to ensnare him, and twice in the chaos, lost in the impossible complexities of earth and blood and something very, very old that confused his nose, he found himself turned around, following a spectre that was only a bush or a thin stump.
Pushing red, matted hair from his eyes, careful not to disturb the mud markings obscuring his face, the miqo'te stumbled on. With each step, he became aware of a growing frustration simmering in his belly, a slow awareness of rebellion. He wanted to turn on the forest, to bare his teeth and arms and dare it to take him, dare it to drag him back to the hole he'd clawed his way from, and then tear apart whatever came for him. That suffocating oblivion was for worms and bones - not him!
The Duskwight's words, however, kept him moving, though to where he didn't know.
Pushing red, matted hair from his eyes, careful not to disturb the mud markings obscuring his face, the miqo'te stumbled on. With each step, he became aware of a growing frustration simmering in his belly, a slow awareness of rebellion. He wanted to turn on the forest, to bare his teeth and arms and dare it to take him, dare it to drag him back to the hole he'd clawed his way from, and then tear apart whatever came for him. That suffocating oblivion was for worms and bones - not him!
The Duskwight's words, however, kept him moving, though to where he didn't know.
![[Image: AntiThalSig.png]](https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/179079766/AntiThalSig.png)
"Song dogs barking at the break of dawn, lightning pushes the edges of a thunderstorm; and these streets, quiet as a sleeping army, send their battered dreams to heaven."
Hipparion Tribe (Sagolii)Â - Â Antimony Jhanhi's Wiki
