Post by Light on Jul 9, 2014 20:41:40 GMT -5
Open~ I just can't stay on a thread like glue anymore
A black gloved hand weakly grasped upwards, clenching air that gave him no hold as he fell from tall wooden tower as it explodes into splinters. Rolling downwards, his body makes a sick crunching noise as he bounces off of a small cliff made of crumbling earth that does nothing to soften his fall. Down and down he went; he didn't stop falling until the flat ground held him still, and stopped his momentum.
It was raining water and blood that day; a small outpost away from Odin had been moving about normally, as it had for years. A group of vigilantes though made use of explosives and blew up the watch tower that the young, barely of age boy had fallen from. He was poor by the way he dressed; but bore some semblance to a knights squire by the dark green sash around his waist that was embroidered in gold. He was barely of age--but had been in the fort being shown around by his father, who he would replace when he finished his training to become a knight.
His dad wouldn't be looking for him though, and from the screams in the town, there would be no search parties. There was hope though--maybe, just maybe--but in his weak state, the young boy didn't think too much on help somehow appearing and saving him.
A black gloved hand weakly grasped upwards, clenching air that gave him no hold as he fell from tall wooden tower as it explodes into splinters. Rolling downwards, his body makes a sick crunching noise as he bounces off of a small cliff made of crumbling earth that does nothing to soften his fall. Down and down he went; he didn't stop falling until the flat ground held him still, and stopped his momentum.
It was raining water and blood that day; a small outpost away from Odin had been moving about normally, as it had for years. A group of vigilantes though made use of explosives and blew up the watch tower that the young, barely of age boy had fallen from. He was poor by the way he dressed; but bore some semblance to a knights squire by the dark green sash around his waist that was embroidered in gold. He was barely of age--but had been in the fort being shown around by his father, who he would replace when he finished his training to become a knight.
His dad wouldn't be looking for him though, and from the screams in the town, there would be no search parties. There was hope though--maybe, just maybe--but in his weak state, the young boy didn't think too much on help somehow appearing and saving him.
