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Post by evelette on Nov 15, 2012 0:53:40 GMT -5
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The first thing her bodice registered was the bitter cold. The sting of numb limbs and the bitter chill of the snow. She was numb from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't think, but she knew she felt the icy chill that signaled she was still alive.
Blinking furiously, she tried to sit up. Her spinal column was bruised, the muscles torn and damaged, the lacerations had clotted over and the bleeding had thankfully stopped, but dear God was she in pain. A whine, a whimper left the dames throat and slowly... ever so slowly she sat up, desperately trying to remember what had caused her injuries, and then, like a proverbial flood it all came rushing back to her.
Her nervousness, Irish's frustration, her fear, bolting, the bear... The bear! Frantic oculars scanned the snow banks, searching for the massive lumbering creature, to no avail. What had happened? Where had it gone? How was she still alive? Her terrified eyes landed on the unconscious form of Irish and her heart sunk to the bottom of her gut.
Had he...taken on the Polar Bear? Alone? But...why? He must have known he hadn't stood a chance? That had to have been suicide! She knew he cared for her but never to this- her eyes landed on the darkly stained blood beneath his limp frame and suddenly, her injuries mattered little.
Searing pain shot along her spine and even greater pain through her leg, but she cared little. She collapsed beside him, nuzzling his neck, checking for a pulse, it was there but faint. His injuries were just as bad, if not worse than hers and tears fell from her oculars like rain. This was her fault. This was her doing. If she hadn't been so damn afraid, so scared of a stupid element, none of this would have happened, and he was injured badly enough to die. Despite the strain it placed on her own injuries, she coiled her body around his like a vice, blocking out the bitter chill and allowing him to suck off of her body heat.
"Please...please wake up I'm so sorry Irish. I'm so... so sorry."
Walk Talk Think
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Post by Roamer on Nov 20, 2012 6:02:23 GMT -5
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It was cold. He lay on the snow, his body aching dully. Slowly the use of his senses, came back to him. First the sensation of touch, then smell, and sound. Blackness still dance around his vision, and he as he slowly stirred he felt a stunning flash of pain. Memories rushed back to him, Rosalyn, Snow, Rosalyn, The Bear, and the sickening crunch of his leg as it snapped. The pain was sickening.
He could hear Rosalyn, her voice echoing in his ear. His heart sped up, as it always did at the sound of her voice and slowly his head shifted, as he opened his eyes his vision unfocused. Slowly the land around him focoused and he let out a painful whine. He coughed, and then winced with pain. His dark green eyes sought out Rosalyn and he opened his mouth taking in a deep breathe before speaking.
"Rosalyn.. are you okay?" He asked. His voice barely above a whisper. As long as she was okay, he'd be fine. The pain was worth it... to know that the wolf that he loved, his Rosalyn was safe.
Walk Talk Think
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Post by evelette on Nov 29, 2012 17:52:22 GMT -5
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Pain laced through her body she could feel it in every muscle, every nerve, and every fiber at her being. Her very soul was screaming from the searing pain that laced through her torso but she forcibly shoved it down. Her beloved was dying, his breath came in shallow rasps and his heart beat was a pathetic whimper of a noise and it was all her fault. Her fault. Her fault.
If she hadn't been so goddamned skittish, if she hadn't gotten spooked, if she had only listened and answered his question like a reasonable creature they wouldn't be almost dead. She wouldn't have to become a widow before she became a wife. If anything, that thought made her cry harder, and whines and whimpers that revealed her broken heart were trapped by his fur and then he spoke and she had never heard anything quite so beautiful in all of her life.
"Irish... Irish! Irish! Irish!" It came out as more of a whine, a crying whimper, both high pitched, relieved, excited, and depressed all at the same time as she spoke her mantra. She nuzzled his neck, licked his cheek, nipped his flesh, she couldn't get enough of him. His scent, his taste, his voice. "I love you! I love you! I love you!"
Walk Talk Think
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Post by Roamer on Dec 6, 2012 11:26:06 GMT -5
OMG EVE! The reply that you so desperately want is coming SOON! I'm mentally constructing it as I type this OOC message.
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