Post by saltcipher on Apr 27, 2016 1:58:39 GMT -5
Zeltain wasn't quite sure how things had gotten so out of hand in their brief out of town supply run. They knew they'd be late for the 'cultiversary' but never could have expected what greeted them when they returned.
The forest was thing and mangled, overgrown with vines and branches that had wound themselves around everything and anything they could. It was dark, too. They imagened even in the brightest sunlight the cover of the trees would keep the forest floor dim and cool. Now, this sort of landscape was ideal to the demon, they loved it. But it was a shocking change from the thick but reasonable forest they remembered.
They floated and wove through the trees, heading in the direction of the cult manor. Though their cottage was closer to Eventide, they wanted to check on their garden inside the mansion itself. They had also run out of their medication while on their trip, and needed to pick some ingredients from their plot as well. As they glided, they began to notice splashes of blue here at there, distant through the trees, and the occasional sound of distress. Why were there so many cult members in the forest? What was going on?
Between the confused panic rising in their chest and the demonic instincts pinching at their senses, Zeltain began to pick up speed until they were practically flying through the forest, barely dodging hanging vines and unfamiliar flora. They were already getting a little clumsy with their lowering stability, but it just took one distracted glance to the side and they had hit something, and they hit hard.
They were thrown forward and spun into the nearest tree, landing back first, upside down, their zwings jabbing painfully into the protruding branches. They groaned and tried to steady their gaze, seeing what (hopefully non-living) unfortunate thing they had kicked.
The forest was thing and mangled, overgrown with vines and branches that had wound themselves around everything and anything they could. It was dark, too. They imagened even in the brightest sunlight the cover of the trees would keep the forest floor dim and cool. Now, this sort of landscape was ideal to the demon, they loved it. But it was a shocking change from the thick but reasonable forest they remembered.
They floated and wove through the trees, heading in the direction of the cult manor. Though their cottage was closer to Eventide, they wanted to check on their garden inside the mansion itself. They had also run out of their medication while on their trip, and needed to pick some ingredients from their plot as well. As they glided, they began to notice splashes of blue here at there, distant through the trees, and the occasional sound of distress. Why were there so many cult members in the forest? What was going on?
Between the confused panic rising in their chest and the demonic instincts pinching at their senses, Zeltain began to pick up speed until they were practically flying through the forest, barely dodging hanging vines and unfamiliar flora. They were already getting a little clumsy with their lowering stability, but it just took one distracted glance to the side and they had hit something, and they hit hard.
They were thrown forward and spun into the nearest tree, landing back first, upside down, their zwings jabbing painfully into the protruding branches. They groaned and tried to steady their gaze, seeing what (hopefully non-living) unfortunate thing they had kicked.
