` the hero dies in this scene.

[( DOLLIE )]

a n t e m o r t i s
i told you, you'd be sorry when i left. i'd laugh while you wept.

The ocean sighed, a lengthy and voluptuous sound as it drifted across the wind. The waves licked at the sand, their frothy tongues mere ghosts along the white sand. It was cloudy, so much that he feared a storm might be on the edge of the sky, and he could have sworn that he had seen lightning a second ago. A heavy gale shifted and blew toward him, whistling loudly through the black rocks that bordered the cliffs along the shore. The few sparse trees that grew beyond the rocky edge tossed their arms in a violent dance, their leaves blowing in delicate, circular patterns that beset the bloodthirsty tempo of the storm. It was hot, so much so that even the casual breeze that blew off the arms of the ocean was not enough to cool him, and the pungent scent of the salty water only agitated him and reminded him further of his discomfort. He shifted along the black rocks, which blended flawlessly into the dark, inky pelt. Perhaps if he had laid down, he would be invisible to the world. The black of his hide would be mistaken for rocks, and the silvery strands that hung from his neck would simply be the remnants of the ocean's touch.

A lovely fallacy, a beautiful facade, but not a true one. He stood rigid along the rocks, his legs bracing his lithe body against the sharp winds that buffeted his sides and threatened to knock him over. He wasn't far off of the silvery beach, though he didn't want to go tumbling down forcefully anytime soon, either. He shifted his neck, which had been curled in toward his body and away from the abusive wind, so that he could view the horizon. The sky had a greenish tint to it, just enough to make it look foreign, frightening. He wasn't bothered too much by it, though the foreboding thunderstorm in the distance continually thrusted itself into view, so that he could not pretend to forget about it, no matter how hard he tried.

With a mild grumble, which was lost to the howl of the wind, Antemortis dismounted the rock carefully, his sharp hooves picking precisely through the crags until they rested on the soft bedding of sand. He didn't stop there, though, and instead continued walking unto the sea, which brewed with rabid, angry waves. The water licked up around his legs, and the rogue waves crashed shortly into his knees, the water cold and refreshing against the humidity of the summer storm. He closed his dark, navy eyes and sunk his head slightly, chin to his chest. His horn divided the waves each time they struck him, and created a short rivulet in them that bypassed his nose just barely and struck him at the top of his knees. Eighteen hands was a lovely height to be in the ocean, especially with the frivolous waves. Shifting slightly to replant his legs and firm sand, he watched as the grains pulled out from beneath his hooves with the ocean's retreating grasp, only to be lost somewhere in the murky, gray abyss.

[` h o n e y, B]

AiKO [/font][/SIZE]

!i cannot believe my eyes!

!how the world is filled with filth and lies!

[♥] What she likes most is that one look, when her prey realizes that they aren’t anything new, can’t tempt her. The slight bow of the neck, that wistful little gleam in their eyes, and then fear. She shrieks with laughter, like the demented harpy that she is, and breathes in the nervous smell of sweat. The pretty boy in front of her, all flash and red red red, like that hasn’t already been done before, winces away from her. But his hooves are locked to the ground, not because of her lovely little powers that twist and pull in her stomach like snakes, but because he doesn’t want to move. She grins at him, her mouth gaping open, spit slicking her lips and dripping down. “Baby.” She whistles through her teeth, shifting her weight, her mind delirious with the want to run him down, tear his hopes and his dreams and his utter stupidity to shreds. “You might want to run now.” She could break him now, for having the idiocy to assume that he is interesting enough, pretty enough, and new enough for her to give him a prize, let him walk away with her blessing, luck branded into his bones. But it will be more fun to chase him until he stumbles, until he is nothing more than a cornered animal trying to survive. She will take away his empathy, his kindness, everything good about him, everything he values. And when she’s done, she’ll give him a gift. But it won’t be luck. The only animals that ever earn anything like that from her are those that serve her mindlessly, know enough to realize that they are so small, so insignificant, that asking for something is an insult.

[♥] “Run, run, run.” She giggles. He’s staring at her, shock still, trembling like the wind is enough to knock him over. She lunges playfully, snapping her wings out and skidding to a halt in front of him, her muzzle almost touching his. “Run.” He backs away from her, hooves skidding, before he whirls, sand flying. She watches him run, lets him have a itty bitty head start. It wouldn’t be fun to catch him right away. And then she’s after him, wings out to catch the breeze. She screams when her hooves leave the ground, the sound dissolving into laughter. Mister Pretty Boy is nothing but a streak of red below her, nothing but prey, because he’s just an animal, just a toy to be broken.

[♥] Her eye catches on something in the ocean, just a little blip of black and white. Such boring colors for a unicorn, hardly interesting at all. And isn’t that surprising? He reminds her of Deva, darling sister, plain and boring and just waiting to be torn apart. She ignores the flash, red unicorn as he runs, tilting to spiral down to this new toy. He’s ugliness is almost beautiful, or maybe that’s just the heat. She lets power stir inside of her, heats up the water he is taking refuge in. A giggle spills from her throat, high pitched and breathy. He’s so ugly.

!and it’s plain to see evil inside of me!

[/blockquote][/blockquote]

[( DOLLIE )]

a n t e m o r t i s
i told you, you'd be sorry when i left. i'd laugh while you wept.

He had dipped his massive, thin head further, so that the water splashed up along the bridge of his nose and cooled his face just slightly. His back, which had suffered the blunt of the cruel, summer weather, still ached for the cool refreshment of the sea. It wasn't necessarily fair - though not much was, anymore - that such awful weather could exist.

He snorted, so quietly that it was lost to the sea beneath him and the wind raging angrily above him. He could hear, just barely beyond the rustle of the ocean, the movement of the foliage in the shore. The sand beneath him refused to stay stationary, and with every retreat of the sea their long, tendril arms sucked the ground beneath him. And what was worse, the water seemed to be getting warmer. So warm that he found himself mirroring the sea and stepping slowly backward, onto the humid, white beach with its dark black rocks. He narrowed his eyes, just slightly, at the water. As if the expression might make it change back, or might make him cooler. It did not, of course, because things like that simply just didn't happen. He closed his dark, bluish gray eyes and breathed in a long, salty breath. It seemed wetter than usual, the humidity almost seemed to stick to he inside of his lungs, and his eyes snapped open. He breathed out his mouth, exhaling the toxic air from his chest as quickly as he possibly could.

It was then that his eyes caught sight of it - her - the purple figure amongst the gray scale scene. She was so small, so tiny, so insignificant looking. Had it not been for her obnoxiously bright pelt, he wouldn't have noticed the Unipeg at all. He blinked, once, twice, three times - trying to picture where he'd seen this one before. She looked familiar... So familiar...

His head jerked up and his feet planted themselves firmly into the loose grains beneath him, searching for better foothold. She didn't say anything, just let off a high, trill of a giggle and watched him, malice evident along her small figure. So he didn't say anything in response, merely watched her, his expression calm and his ears stand-still upon his willowy, deer-like head.