Solira: The Ocean: [CHOKE + OZY] rain cleans the blood

Brooding, plotting, twisted men. They are always around; Huyana always seems to stumble across them. They were always the most interesting at least, but their venomous words were not bluffs like the puffed up egos less intimidating fools ballooned at her. Huyana remained undaunted though, her curiosity a driving blade behind all her actions, all her wants. I must know. Who are these two, why are they so important?

The stirring of another creature coming forth captured the roan’s attention. Eyes slid to the side, a single ear rotating around as the brush rattled with the passing form. What appeared did not surprise Huyana, but only because she didn’t think it was real. The corpse of a fox swayed before them, a brief glance all Huyana gave the figured hallucination. Her twisted mind played tricks on her too often, finding reality in this new realm would prove trying for the rain-soaked scholar. Madness threatened her future like a plague upon a doomed Egyptian horizon.

Just as Huyana’s focus drifted back to the bloody skeleton sneering at her, another figure came upon the scene. Once more, though with more annoyance at there being more commotion, the glassy amber pools of the mare slid to the side. They widened briefly as she was surprised to find a horse rather than another undead hallucination, though perhaps Ozymandias was a hallucination too. Perhaps this was all simply smoke and mirrors crafted from her tortured thoughts. Ah, but thoughts like that certainly didn’t help, the last thing she needed to add to her list was paranoia or doubt. He was real.

Choke. The name exposes the laughing creature she had followed here. As if to attest the name matched the figure her gaze darted back to his dripping cadaver, snapping the image and identity together. Keeping her gaze upon Choke, ears flicked to the rough, dry words of the corpsefiend. His disinterest was evident in his dismissing tone, his tongue barely moving within his mouth to utter the voice towards her direction. She was unimportant to him, a speck of dirt beneath the frog of his hoof. It was always like this, herds were all the same.

”Huyana.” She replied simply, her clear and airy voice running forth in a monotone expected from a drone or sulking teenager. She was neither, though perhaps more akin to a drone if anything.