do not fear the dark, wolf cub, for when the sun leaves the world,
There’s a moment of panic. There’s a moment of relief.
There’s a moment of where she’s not exactly sure where she is until she opens her eyes – squinting, half expecting there to be nothing and pleasantly surprised when she spies Deimos peering down at her. The question, the words reach her and she’s silent for a time, unsure how long as she peers past him up the wall to see where she’d fallen from. And there’s a few ways she could react to this, that fluttering panic in her gut – one of the only things she can feel anymore even if she couldn’t feel the impact of her body hitting the ground.
She could cry, but she doesn’t. Instead, the Harpy begins to laugh, something wild and surprised, shock coursing through her system. A hand raises for a moment before falling to the ground again, clutching at the cold snow beneath her palm that doesn’t quite melt in her touch anymore. “I’m okay.” She manages through the fit, unsure why she’s laughing, unsure if she can actually stop. She supposes death has shifted how she reacts to things as well – the panic within her appearing not in tears or rage as it once had, but something else entirely.
Or perhaps she’s simply lost her mind.
There’s a moment of where she’s not exactly sure where she is until she opens her eyes – squinting, half expecting there to be nothing and pleasantly surprised when she spies Deimos peering down at her. The question, the words reach her and she’s silent for a time, unsure how long as she peers past him up the wall to see where she’d fallen from. And there’s a few ways she could react to this, that fluttering panic in her gut – one of the only things she can feel anymore even if she couldn’t feel the impact of her body hitting the ground.
She could cry, but she doesn’t. Instead, the Harpy begins to laugh, something wild and surprised, shock coursing through her system. A hand raises for a moment before falling to the ground again, clutching at the cold snow beneath her palm that doesn’t quite melt in her touch anymore. “I’m okay.” She manages through the fit, unsure why she’s laughing, unsure if she can actually stop. She supposes death has shifted how she reacts to things as well – the panic within her appearing not in tears or rage as it once had, but something else entirely.
Or perhaps she’s simply lost her mind.
the world fears you
KIADA
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3
