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| Darkness in Mind | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Sep 12 2012, 08:44 PM (635 Views) | |
| Obsidian | Sep 22 2012, 01:40 PM Post #11 |
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Dynamite
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Bryar continued to hold her, still firmly but much less rough. "It's.. It's okay.." he breathed, "You don't... have to apologize." There was still so much to understand and so much more he wanted to ask, but right now he just didn't have the breath to ask it. He'd wait until this whole thing passed and they'd be sitting back again in a cozy warm room, maybe somewhere near a crackling fire, and he'd ask her then. Unless if she didn't want to say anything, then he wouldn't push. He didn't want to scare her away again with dozens of pressing questions. |
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| Saya Sil Rumore | Sep 30 2012, 03:51 PM Post #12 |
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Redwood Hermit
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The twitching, black arm seemed to suck the light from the surrounding woods as Bryar held its hateful aura in check. Saya Sil trembled with lingering fear. After all, though it had been restrained, the arm hadn't returned to normal. It would finish the job in no time if her savior permitted it. "I'll make it stop," she insisted with just as little oxygen to spare. "Somehow. Until then, don't let go..." She never thought those words would escape her lips even as she voiced them. Their contact was dangerous, electrifying. Beneath that spark of fear and excitement lay the constant presence of the darkness of her dreams, the whispers of the voice inside the shadows, inside her arm. It had nothing to do with the woodlands themselves. The huntsman on her trail had watched her in silence for years - at least, that was the impression in his ominous speech. While she remained in her innocent shack up north, she had been safe. By running away, did she destroy that fragile chance at peace? At any cost, she had to reach her mother. No one else coupled the trustworthiness and talent necessary to deter the shadow's will. Three hours passed as Saya Sil struggled to control the rebellious forces inside her arm. Each successive hour seemed to herald slight, feeble progress - an inch and a half of her arm recovered at most. After the third hour, however, the black shroud over her flesh immediately receded, revealing the bruised and beaten arm underneath. Saya Sil collapsed against Bryar like a child as soon as the ordeal finished. Her legs, while never particularly sturdy, threatened to give way under the weight of time. The greatest strain was on her mind, however; remaining alert in the face of imminent death for so long drained the sheridan of every ounce of energy. |
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| Obsidian | Oct 3 2012, 12:16 PM Post #13 |
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Dynamite
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All the while, Bryar held her close, held her steady. He promised her he wouldn't let go and for the most part he had kept that promise. He still wasn't entirely sure what it was that was happening, but to each his own and Bryar still wouldn't press and ask. When it seemed as though everything had passed, he finally, slowly, lessened his grip. He didn't quite let her go yet, however, in case of her being unable to stand on her own. "Is... Is it over?" he asked, "Are you alright now, Saya Sil?" He looked her over once as if to be sure, "We... Your arm looks a bit beat up. Does it hurt bad?" |
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