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| you can't even notice it when you smile so hard; through a heartfelt lie : howl with finn | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jul 21 2013, 01:56 PM (221 Views) | |
| alittlelamb | Jul 21 2013, 01:56 PM Post #1 |
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i'll dig a tunnel from my window to yours.
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It's nearing midnight when she finally straggles ashore, the red-brown of her body several shades darker from seawater. She is tired -- bodily, mentally, emotionally drained as can be. Somehow, though, Howl manages the short walk from water's edge into the sparse edges of the coastal forest. Privacy isn't really a top priority for her; it's the middle of the night, everyone is here to do the exact same thing, and also she really just doesn't care. She's at the end of it, she knows. This is all there is, the culmination of everything: her life is going to peak between two palm trees and it's going to suck. But Howl got herself into this for a reason, she knows what she's doing, and she is ready to go through with it. She settles her small frame down onto the unusually soft grass thirty or so feet into the forest. Her legs curled underneath her, Howl is just beginning to think she might be able to put this off till morning (when she's gotten some sleep), when she feels it starting. Memories from a life too far gone to care for flicker briefly in the back of her mind, about what it means to be a proper mare and the blessings of motherhood. If she remembers right, they only skimmed the gory details of it and skipped right to cute little fuzzy things with too much leg and not enough coordination. For what's no doubt the millionth time she sighs at her own naivete back then, but another part of her knows there's not really any getting rid of it. She is here to redeem her past, after all. Howl really feels it now, the twisting pain in her middle, and she heavily falls onto her side. She's well in the middle of it all when her eyes flicker open to catch a glimpse of the sky, the bright full moon up above. "Aroo," she murmurs on the tail of a gasp. When the foal is finally on the ground, Howl knows instinctively that something is wrong. She lifts her head up, rolls into a more comfortable position, and realizes immediately that there is far more blood on the ground than there should be. How she knows this only the gods can say, but it settles into her brain quietly that she will not be making it off this island. She casts her eyes to the foal now, laying pitifully wet behind her and blinking confusedly around himself. "You've lucked out, kid," she says, shifting around so she has better access to him, a sharp pain shooting through her body. Her face scrunched up into a grimace, Howl cleans the colt off with deft, impartial movements. "It was supposed to be you, but I guess the gods always had it in for me, didn't they?" Her voice is wavering, shaking a little too much. "I really ought to call you Camarin, since you've killed me to, but ..." She has come to think of her old friend a little more softly, and something like that just seems to spiteful. "Have fun getting off the island, Finnigan." |
★ between the click of the lock, and the start of the dream. | previously rhythm/riddikulus | | |
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3:35 AM Jul 11