whomuses

[whomuses]

Gale knew where she was coming from, he really did. Whilst never a man of spice, he was definitely creative in his tastes; that urge for knowledge had driven him to learn dozens of techniques in cooking. Duergar mushrooms were a dangerous path, of course - that one had nearly poisoned him, back when he was a curious, younger lad. "Alright..." he roughly crushed the last of their cloves of garlic, chucking them into the pot. It would at least balance out the slightly spoiled fishheads - he was hoping that cooking them down would bring out some stock and make them... at least somewhat palatable. "I don't know we have any pepper left." he admitted.

"Take it from someone who’s been chewing on dried rations and half-rotten shadow-cursed scraps for far too long now — MORE GARLIC. And throw in some pepper while you're at it. I crave flavour."

[whomuses]

// Two things! First of all, you may notice I am now replying to asks rather than pasting them into threads. This is because I now have the ability to trim asks. If I answer your ask, you are always welcome to reblog and continue unless I actively tell you otherwise. secondly. I am reminding you (politely) to reblog memes from the source. I am giving people a one strike system. If you reblog a meme from me more than once, I will block you.

[whomuses]

There is only a vague semblance of awareness in the dragonborn's dark eyes as Jaheira kneels; between the calming spell, the fogginess of being post-collapse, and their general state, it's hard to really register anything as important right now. They had been going somewhere, right? Back to… rest. Or not rest, not really, because Caedes couldn't rest. Sleep was dangerous - potentially deadly for their companions. Even with the promise from Jaheira to cut them down, should Bhaal take control, that terror runs heavy in their corrupted veins.

Awareness is drifting back in, dribs and drabs, that reality starting to tighten it's grip into him again. But there is no objection as Jaheira mutters; only a faint slip of shame at the concern in her tone. They shouldn't be doing this to her. Jaheira is an incredible asset to their team, the last thing that the dragonborn wants to do is to be any kind of a burden to her. The arms sliding around them are - somewhat of a shock.

Being six and a half feet, of course, they tower over the half-elf. Even with the frailty and lost bulk, a dragonborn is no light thing, especially one with a tail such as they have; the slight scent of earthy magic explains through distant brain just how she is able to lift them, and they raise no fight or objection, beyond trying to hang on, to help, as he is laid into the hammock.

It's weird to… relax. Or as close to it as they can manage, that weird fog over everything making it hard to care much. There's still that fear, running under the surface; of what death might await, for being placed to rest. At the question, though, horn-crowned head turned a little to look at her more directly. Jaw parted, objection ready to be raised - the usual insistence that they're fine, that it's okay, that they don't need any help.

The sound they make is… flimsy. A mere croak. Mouth shuts, swallows, eyes darting away for a moment before he tries again.

"I don't need this," they said, a little over a whisper, "It was just a wobble. I'm fine." obviously taking advantage of the open mouth, they don't realise what the spell she cast was until the first berry touches his tongue. Snout wrinkled, nostrils flaring, lower jaw dropping open as they immediately twisted sideways, trying to spit the offending fruit onto the floor.

Jaheira knelt beside the unconscious dragonborn, her hands instinctively going to check his pulse. It was faint but steady, his skin alarmingly cold, and his limbs trembling like leaves caught in a bitter wind.

Her brow furrowed as she studied him closer, the details striking her like a slow realization. His scales, usually gleaming, seemed dull. His frame was thinner than what dragonborns normally were, his build now bordering on frail. Jaheira had thought his leaner appearance was simply his natural shape, but now... the excess skin around his neck and arms told another story — a quick loss of weight.

Her expression softened, concern overtaking the spark of suspicion. “This isn’t Bhaal’s doing,” she muttered, almost to herself. “Damn it, Caedes, how long has this been going on?” Her voice was steady but carried the weight of frustration, mingled with guilt for not noticing sooner.

Jaheira straightened, her jaw tightening. "This won't do," she muttered, flexing her fingers as she reached for her connection to nature’s power. The familiar hum of magic pulsed through her veins as she called upon Bull’s Strength. A wave of warmth surged through her muscles, filling her with a strength beyond her usual limits.

With careful hands, she slipped her arms under Caedes, lifting him up slowly, gently. She carried him over to a hammock, her movements just as careful as she eased him down. The hammock swayed slightly, cradling his weakened frame. Jaheira stepped back, wiping her brow, dispersing the spell. She frowned, her eyes scanning his pale features.

“Now then,” Jaheira muttered, more to herself than anyone else, “how long has it been since you last ate? Drank water? Slept through the night like a sensible creature?”

She didn't expect Caedes to answer — truth be told, she couldn't answer those questions herself. Still, she sat beside him, murmuring a soft incantation as she conjured a handful of Goodberries. She pressed a few of them into his mouth, with a frustrated sigh.

[whomuses]

"I would never ask such a thing of you." Caedes said, with a clear twang in their voice, the sarcasm able to escape even through their carefully curated stoic nature. "Right." he took breath, focusing, and murmured the incantation; the mage hand appeared in soft glow, shifting towards the noblestalk.

"Oh, that man." his nose wrinkled in distaste; he didn't give a damn if they got exploded, able to hear the outcry from amongst the bibberbang. "I don't really care. Just - make sure he doesn't make a damn move. We get the mushroom, then if we have space... we go and get him. Ugh." their tail twitched, having to fight to keep the limb still. Wouldn't do to knock a mushroom.

[whomuses]

// Hello hello, I am home from the con but unsurprisingly I am exhausted. I'm going to rest then I'll hopefully be here later/tomorrow to get all the stuff I owe back into the queue and get that back up to standard! It still has a few posts so again you won't see a drop in activity. Love y'all <3

[whomuses]

"You're... you're dead."

"Wait - I thought you died!"

"How did you get here?"

"I haven't seen you in months..."

"Where did you go?"

"How could you vanish on me like that?!"

"Oh, my god, what happened to you!?"

"That's so much blood..."

"It's good to see you again!"

"I missed you..."

"It's been so long."

"You're looking at me like I'm a ghost."

"It's not been that long."

"No - I managed to escape."

"They couldn't make me stay dead if they tried."

"I won't stay away, not from you."

"I had to see you again."

"I know I'm not meant to be here."

"You disappeared."

"You were meant to stay with me, and you disappeared!"

"God, I wish you were dead."

"Wouldn't it be better if I'd never seen you again?"

"All this time, I was convinced you were dead."

"You lied to me! I mourned for you!"

"To think I missed you, and you were fine, all this time?"

"Why are you covered in blood?"

"How could you show up at my door like this?"

"You were always a monster."

"All this time! No! You don't get to just show up!"

"You think I'm going to let you in, just because you show up at my door, covered in blood? I mean, yes, I am, but - that's not the point!"

[whomuses]

They startled - just a slight, subtle motion - at Jaheira's approach. Eyes squinted, although it didn't help any with the lack of vision that they were giving them. The warmth eases away the pain, but not the embarrasment - and confirms that nothing is happening to repair his vision. Damnit to the hells. Anything that draws attention to this is bad. "I'm fine." they said, tone gruff, sniffing slightly. "The tree gets a token point, I suppose." he huffed, rubbing a hand over the back of their neck. Turning, doing their best to not give away that they could see none of the party, moving only with sound and scent, feet tapping a touch cautiously whilst trying not to give anything away...

"Watch out for the—"

Jaheira's warning was cut short by the thunk of Caedes' forehead meeting a low-hanging branch. It wasn’t an issue for most humanoids, but for a dragonborn tha brach was definetely hanging too low.

"…tree."

She bit her lip, suppressing the laugh threatening to escape as she approached him. “You all right there?” she asked, voice steady but her eyes betraying the mirth she was holding back. Placing a hand gently on his forehead, she murmured a soft Healing Word, the faint glow of magic easing the impact.

Once she was sure he was fine and out of danger, she stepped slightly back — and then let the laughter spill out. "I suppose it was the tree’s turn to win this round.” she teased, shaking her head.

[whomuses]

Something's Wrong With You (senses)

Eyes

"Can you focus on me?"

"Hey... I'm over here?"

"What are you looking at?"

"Whoa, hey - sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

"I'm - I'm right in front of you."

"Can you... can you not see?"

"When did you lose your vision?"

"Hey, it's okay - it's okay. Let me take your hand and lead you."

"Don't be scared - it'll be okay. We'll fix it."

"Don't flinch - I'm going to touch you."

Ears

"Hello? Hellloooo?"

"Are you ignoring me?"

"God, you never pay attention -"

"I'm talking to you!"

"Why aren't you listening?"

"Pay attention!"

"Listen!"

"Can you not hear me or something?"

"Why are you looking at me like that..?"

"What - wait... you can't hear? Why am I saying this you can't hear it."

Mouth

"Why are you making that face? I spent ages cooking that."

"Why are you adding salt to that?"

"Whoa, you're drooling like crazy."

"Are you choking?"

"Bland? How can it be bland?"

"I can't taste anything."

"My mouth just tastes like blood."

"Everything tastes of nothing."

"My tongue's gone numb."

"Bleh."

Nose

"Eugh, can't you smell that?"

"Oh, that smells hideous."

"It reeks in here!"

"You stink."

"I think I broke my nose."

"I can't smell anything?"

"I think I've gone nose-blind."

"Should I... be able to smell anything?"

"I think I burnt my nostril hairs out."

"Everything just smells like smoke."

Feeling

"I think I just burnt my fingerprints off."

"My hands have gone numb."

"I can't - I can't feel anything. At all."

"Are you touching me? I can't tell -"

"Your hands are shaking."

"Okay - if you're going to keep dropping things you need to put them down."

"Can you feel this?"

"I'm going to run my fingers through your hair."

"I'm taking your hand."

"It's okay - it's okay. Just take a breath. The feeling will come back."

[whomuses]

The Risen Devil

Based on L'Ange déchu, The Fallen Angel by Alexandre Cabanel!

I'm aware this is by no means an original idea ahah but! well! I sunk a lot of time into this and I'm pleased with how it's come out. I feel like this is a very dark urge image, of course; the loss and pain that's felt... the very nature of durge... Prints will be available soon!

No AI generation was used during production of this piece. Some detail shots below!

[whomuses]

𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐃𝐔𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝟑 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 ASTARION EDITION ⟶ part one

“there is a time and place for violence. i mean - this place is perfect. but is it the time?”

“heaven forbid. we’re all entitled to our secrets.”

“sitting by the fire while you do all the hard work sounds marvelous, actually.”

“couldn’t you wait ten minutes before being an absolute freak?”

“you’re welcome to try and kill me, of course. but i don’t die easily these days.”

“ugh, don’t be so nice to me. it makes me want to be nice back.”

“a horrible death is always just around the corner with you.”

“stabbing someone a dozen times can be many things. but ‘the right thing to do’? hm, i doubt it.”

“immortality is only as good as the life you’re living. an eternity of luxury sounds a lot better than an eternity of struggle.”

“what are you doing? this isn’t safe. you can’t trust him.”

“look, i’m a not a details person, all right. but turning up and causing chaos has worked for us so far.”

“they were clearly artists. you can tell because it’s a mess in here.”

“you know, there is a point where bravery becomes stupidity. and walking into that thing would be very, very stupid.”

“i’ve had enough of bad poets singing of my looks - urgh.”

“is the plant bothering you?”

“until then, try not to die.”

“oh yes, i’m fine. i just feel… awful.”

“shut that oversized chicken up.”

“you know, the only way to cure temptation… is to give in to it.”

“next time, just warn me before you do something stupid.”

“there certainly is a strong ambience down here. i don’t know if it’s the bats or the decaying - everything. it’s quite homey.”

“it’s nice to see heroes are as awful as the rest of us.”

“unusually polite for a god.”

“of all the places you dragged me, this might just be the most foul. and that is saying something, given some of the things you exposed me to.”

“i mean, i hate to judge the proverbial book, but that oath may be all cover and no pages.”

“a shapeshifter? it could be anyone. i mean - it’s not me. but it could be anyone else.”

“sometimes we need to think with our heads before our knifes, dear.”

“you could watch for anyone acting strangely, but - well, you know the lunatics we camp with.”

“thank you. for being that evil bastard.”

“can you feel that? the dark, it’s - hungry. best watch the shadows.”

“this place brings back the worst memories.”

“well, that’s disturbing. still, better than having an actual conversation with him though.”

“oh no. not again.”

“honestly, just once, could we end up somewhere normal?”

“i prefer to travel in smaller groups. it’s more… intimate.”

“nice as it is, she still doesn’t have the best hair in the camp.”

“thank goodness. i was worried i’d have to get involved. now, let’s keep our hands to ourselves.”

“i much prefer it when i’m the one prowling in the shadows - about to strike.”

“ah, nothing says ‘true love’ like faking your own death to avoid someone.”

“you’re not going to eviscerate him? i was hoping for a show.”

“it’s just a waste of a perfectly good cult we could be controlling.”

“can you - ugh, can you shut up and let me read?”

“i hate to be negative. but they’ll carve you up like a goose.”

“my, she sounds positively demented. i love it. let’s tell her everything.”

“you villain. i didn’t know you had it in you.”

“a well-presented face can open a lot of doors.”

“hardly a promising introduction.”

“do you mind? i’m brooding.”

“i’d rather be the only dark power inside your body, if it’s all the same to you.”

“easy now, let’s not do anything hilarious.” 

“i’m with you, my dear. wherever this leads.” 

“i appreciate anyone who opens a conversation with bodily harm.” 

“nothing like a little camp drama to spice up the evening.” 

“it’s almost a pity things ended up amicably.”

“what do you see when you look at me?”

“i would’ve liked more for my trouble than a pat on the head and vinegar for wine.”

“do you have any other chaos you need to unleash here?”

“all i want is a little fun. is that so much to ask?” 

“don’t be so sour. i like a good time as much as anyone.” 

“this seems like a lovely little spot. the sense of impending doom aside.”

[whomuses]

Imagine having to READ BOOKS to perform spells... I could never

/ to Gale

There was a splutter of disgust at such a statement. "How dare you." he objected, "Studying and learning spells is the best way to develop magical skills! Far less risk of your out of control wild magic taking over, after all - it is a carefully constructed manipulation of the weave. And any great wizard will be able to memorise enough to last him a lifetime! I barely ever have to check my grimoire nowadays." he gave a slightly haughty sniff.

[whomuses]

How could they even begin to quantify Bhaal? The very essence of their blood being disgusting, tainted; the urge, the hunger; the constant feeling of the lack of control? Caedes wasn't sure that revenge would ever truly be something he could get. When at last they shuffled off the mortal plane, they had little doubt that what awaited them after would be anything close to kind. Even stripped of that blood, they would be Bhaal's property to be tormented. They doubted any of their friends would see one another, in whatever awaited them after…

"Justice… is hard to quantify." he murmured. "But my quarrels lie with the Gods themselves. There is little I can do for that."

"When i was but a boy - i watched as the monsters that hidden their true nature so well , hang my father and brothers. My youngest brother...he was just thirteen. A mere boy. For a long time , i sought only vengeance." EZIO PAUSES FOR A MOMENT , such a memory was difficult to recall and yet he senses it may be of some help to talk about it.

He glances at them for a moment. "Yet it is not so hard to understand. Your anger , it burns hot and bright - but perhaps a lesson can be learned from the tale of icarus." He leans against the bench , blending in as people go about their day. The streets of Rome were busy but this was a good thing. THEY SIMPLY DID NOT EXIST TO THE OTHER CITIZENS.

"Do not confuse justice with revenge , amico mio. Do not fly too close to the sun either. Especially in this city."

[whomuses]

The servant watched as his master twitched; the Lord in his own mind, who was Him but Not Him, was more than just angry. Some fascination, of course, that his most perfect experiment, the split drop of blood, would behave in such a manner. A mistake, perhaps, to intertwine them so very thoroughly. Yet, when Puck finally fell and managed to rip Iago's heart out, well. That would be all it took - then they would have the most glorious Bhaalspawn to have ever walked any mortal plane. The already formidable Puck would be murder incarnate. He hungered to see it.

The butler watched the shudder with fascination. Oh, how their favourite master struggled with such indecision! He must encourage them to give in to it. What a pleasure it would be, and so very deserved! After all, he had seen Puck kill. Had seen how it made the urge sing, but never truly satisfied. What joy he was being denied, from that inability to part from their blood… such a strong creature he was. Such a wasted potential.

"Yes, yes, I know, of course, young master, I have seen their most intense magics myself." they chuckled at that, indulgently, knowing just how much the spare part despised him. A shame, sometimes, that they were not given the same gift as their brother - together, they could have been an incredibly formidable team. But far be it from the butler to question any whims of lords and masters - they were but here to serve and delight in what was wrought.

"They are little against your disgusting self, however! A little bit of dedication and you could have a most wonderful battle, young master. We could arrange the ring, in fact - give it the ceremony that it so clearly deserves?" he wheedled, "Give the spar- give Iago - a fair chance, so that we know it is not taken lightly, hm? Let your dear Sceleritas Fel make the arrangements - it would be glorious, I reassure you."

       THAT  BLESSED  HUNGER  。。。  That wretched hunger. That hunger which consumed him from the inside & left him hollow, never satisfied. 

A walking corpse, the both of them ; he & his twin. Iago might have been the one destined for slaughter, but Puck would lay himself down beside them the moment their heart stopped for good. It would be nice, he thought, to rest in the same casket as them. 

       But they would have no one left to bury them together, nor would it be considered resting for them to enter their Father's plane after death. Still, the thought soothed him, if only for a moment. Oh, to sleep for eternity in his sibling's arms. 

       He couldn't even remember the last time he held them properly. He would surely tear them limb from limb if he tried, for he did itch for it. Yearned for it. He knew the reason why nothing ever satisfied. He knew it was because he was born to rip out his own heart from inside Iago's chest. Knew the only thing that would give him peace would be to devour his twin until there was nothing left of them.

Would that be a mercy for them ？ After all they had already suffered ？They would be far safer that way, warm & protected inside of his skin. Part of him, like they were meant to be. The thought made him shudder, though with disgust or delight he didn't know.

Puck scowled at Sceleritas. ❝ You know that I do. More than anything, I swear it. ❞

Then a cocky grin made its way up his face, despite the queasy feeling in his stomach. It brimmed with a certain pride reserved only for when he spoke of Iago.

❝ But my sibling is a formidable enemy, if you had not noticed. They have great potential as an opponent. I would see them grow stronger so that taking their last breath is the honor it deserves to be. I will not humiliate them by taking their death lightly. It will be perfect. ❞

[whomuses]

Eyes are drawn away from the spider and it's so simple, yet so complex creation. Halsin's features softened a touch; it was a question he was asked regularly, after all. "Nature is - itself, in all it can be." he said, with a tilt of the head, "It hungers, and it demands; yet it is calm, and beauty. Nature encompasses the delicate butterfly, yes, the studious spider; the ferocity of a mother bear protecting her cubs. The gentleness of the cubs playing. It is all things, and more. It is a most demanding partner, too," he chuckled, "It has to be reminded sometimes that I am more than it. Yet I would not change it, not for anything." this was a long speech for the druid, and he fell quiet again, looking back towards the spider.

" When i was a child , i wished to be a spider , to weave myself away from my family." A QUIET ADMISSION FROM THE DREAMER. "Or a butterfly , to soar into the clouds." She looks at the druid with curiosity. "What is it like? to be so tied to nature?"

[whomuses]

"Oooh, now that - that is a difficult question." with all the grace of winding up a springwork toy, Nimue has now set off the wizard, "There are so many schools of magic and of course, they all intertwine in some way or another! You cannot truly master illusion, after all, until you have spent some time with summoning, knowing how to bend the shapes of things! There is much grace to be found even in the art of war, oh, to manipulate the elements is such an incredible feeling, whilst to control the weave is much like an artist wields their tools, intention takes you only so far, of course. Your vision in your mind cannot ever be exactly realised on the page, but you must embrace what the magic gives you, what the weave provides." he babbled on,

"There's a lot of pleasure in the more subtle magics, too - how easy it becomes to summon a book or tidy a shelf with barely a thought, once the weave is part of your soul." he paused, feeling a slight flush on his cheeks, "But, ah, well - sorry, I have rather treated you to a lecture, haven't I?" he chuckled, "I think it would be the illusuary magic, in truth. There is something about being able to gracefully bend the mind to show it whatever you wish."

@whomuses liked for a Nim! (Tossing at Gale this time)

"What's your favorite kind of magic and why?" What was this? A pop quiz? Maybe. Nimue was just curious, really. Favorites really did tell a lot about people.

[whomuses]

There were glances, of course, from other members of their little group who had heard the snidey comment; people might be a little taken aback by the need to help, but it was clearly meant as a kind gesture. Caedes straightened himself slightly, hearing the softness to her voice and feeling a twinge of guilt. Not a normal reaction to a little help; not a kind one. Whilst they'd never made any secret of the urge nor it's cruelty, Caedes still felt like the act… was sometimes more harmful than good.

The words throw him off. Trying to glare in her direction, to keep up the act that he can see at all. Pupils are pinprick, as they have been for the past day, no longer dilating as they should. In this low light, all he can really make out are smudges - the glow of the sussur flowers giving everything a faintly blue tint.

"I - yes. Thank you." he exhaled, shortly, "But I'm fine. I don't need it. Maintain your focus where it is needed, please." and yes, perhaps he would have walked into the branch if they hadn't moved it, but the dragonborn couldn't shake the disconcerting feeling that Evan had… figured it out. That they couldn't see. If Evan had figured it out, perhaps the others, but - surely - they would have said something by now. Then that would be it, that would be over - confined to camp until sight returned.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ— Emerald hues grew wide at her companion as they growled out their words at her, though she kept a tight hold on the way her body reacted to their anger otherwise. It made sense to her, when people she cared about got angry with her, and although she was trying to help Caedes, she could understand how they might have felt singled out. At least they weren't Zuggtmoy, whose anger was practically branded onto her soul. She could feel it in echoes every time someone else turned their anger on her.

It was easier when it was an enemy- she could focus, when she knew that she was fighting against an evil of some kind. Those she saw as good, or those she respected, were a lot more difficult. It felt more personal, even as she tried to convince herself that being upset with her was pretty rational. It felt like she could lose everything all over again.

"Sorry," she said quietly, though she let the branch down easily a few moments later. At least they knew it was there, now. "I wasn't trying to guard you- just trying to be helpful. I... don't expect you to like me, believe me. I understand that. But I'm here, and we're all in this together, so I figured I'd make myself useful where I can."

[whomuses]

The horse was fast, that was definitely true; and it was fantastic. The powerful animal driving it's way down through the streets as the birdthing led, it drew any attention away from the little shape in the sky. At four feet tall, they were plenty small - except for the surprisingly impressive wingspan as they flew, ducked and wove. Yes, they could have left her behind - could have easily fled the sky, out of the city, back to freedom, to figure out their task now that they were weaponless and penniless.

But Terra Kotta would not do so! Horse was friend. Horse had broken them free, and was clearly smart friend. The edge of the city now - out through the slums and into the forested and farmland, where the people would not be able to follow so easily - or rather, would not care to flee the city. It was more than possible, of course, that their gaolers may gather their own horses. Might pursue them away; for profit, or for revenge, it was hard to say. Terra did not know how valuable one might consider their little self.

When they were finally heading towards freedom, they swept lower now. Wings open wide, gliding down a dozen feet above their new horse-friend.

"To wood," they called, pointed with a clawed hand, "Is water. And shelter!" a few beats of their wings to soar up, landing towards the top of one of the taller trees, catching their breath and looking back towards the city. Horse would need rest, water; to recover from long, hard run. Did not want Horse to pass of exhaustion, no, no.

It was something to bare witness towards, such a creature that has twisted and turned within the passage of time, to become nothing more than myth and legend. How before, so long ago it almost felt like, she would have adored finding them, there was so much she didn’t know about them, so much she lacked knowledge about with them, how she would have wished to find them within an egg, or when they had been a youth to learn, experiment and gather as much information as possible and yet.

Here it was, none the wiser to anything at all, offering aid as well, despite having left behind any weapons to defend itself from harm. This place, these humans, they saw him and her, as nothing more than gains, nothing more than stock to be gathered, horded, and sold as well, a horrid thing as she was not wishing to remain here, for any longer than she had stayed, she wanted out, and this was her chance.

As she heard his call, quick, quick. As if she needed to be told anything as she moved, quickly, this body might feel strange and different to her in every single possible way, but it did spring into action when she started to move, from the blown-out stables that the feathered creature had burst from, like a phoenix rising from the ashes, it had made escape possible and like she thought, she was not remaining here, she saw the opening that they had created and she would quickly take it and run forward, everything else there within the pens, cages and stands, are on their own, it was everything and anything for themselves.

She moved then and followed him, running through the streets, cries, wild horse, watch out, get out the way, there were no reigns on her, no straps, nothing, some would reach, try and grab her, but they could not get a grip, as she moved and followed him through the streets and the twisting and the turns laid out there, to go quickly as she could, beyond the people there and further, through the old worn down gates in the slums and the stone pathways turning into worn tracks and then mud as she pushed herself then, willed this body to run even quicker than before to get her out of here.