KORBIN
And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,
That blushed and bloomed,
That ringing was back in his ears again. A high pitched keening that drowned out all other sound. All he saw was red on white, and that far distant horizon where nothing moved. How far would he have to go to find the dragon? How long time would it take to track it down? There might still be time to reach it, before it was too late.
Korbin was faintly aware of hands holding him back, stony and strong. More than one pair, because he was a big man and apprently they needed quite a few to restrain him. Why couldn't they let him go? If he shifted, it would be quick work to go after it. All he had to do was follow the trail of blood in the snow. So much blood...
A voice was shouting his name. It was distant, not really known to him. Unfamiliar, yet it kept calling his name. One of the guards was made to let go, and a small figure took their place. Wrapped arms around him. He stared down at the woman with eyes that were pale as ice and just as cold, wild with rage and... and he wondered why she was sorry. Korbin shrugged her off, tore himself free from the guards. They watched him, wary and on guard. He wanted to laugh. What did they think he would do? Bite them?
"I'm going after her," he said, a low growl that tore at the throat. His face was cold, wet - was he crying? Why would he be, when there was work to do? - and without waiting to see who would follow, he began to stalk off into the Tundra.
It didn't matter if no one else came. He would find his sister. He would do what he needed to do. It was them against the world. Always had been. Always would be.
Just come back.
Korbin was faintly aware of hands holding him back, stony and strong. More than one pair, because he was a big man and apprently they needed quite a few to restrain him. Why couldn't they let him go? If he shifted, it would be quick work to go after it. All he had to do was follow the trail of blood in the snow. So much blood...
A voice was shouting his name. It was distant, not really known to him. Unfamiliar, yet it kept calling his name. One of the guards was made to let go, and a small figure took their place. Wrapped arms around him. He stared down at the woman with eyes that were pale as ice and just as cold, wild with rage and... and he wondered why she was sorry. Korbin shrugged her off, tore himself free from the guards. They watched him, wary and on guard. He wanted to laugh. What did they think he would do? Bite them?
"I'm going after her," he said, a low growl that tore at the throat. His face was cold, wet - was he crying? Why would he be, when there was work to do? - and without waiting to see who would follow, he began to stalk off into the Tundra.
It didn't matter if no one else came. He would find his sister. He would do what he needed to do. It was them against the world. Always had been. Always would be.
Just come back.
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.
Of the old time entombed.
