(ORP) A Pickle
Posted: Sun Nov 16, 2014 3:26 am
Aida sighed. Her stomach was rumbling again, much to her annoyance. She glanced down amongst the branches she was perched upon, down at the brown shape half buried in the undergrowth she knew to be her satchel. There was definitely a pickled onion sandwich in there. The forest crawler, the tedious beast who had dragged her here sat below, just out of sight, half hidden in the foliage as they did when they were waiting for prey. She sighed again.
Her magick was drained. Helping Bhen she hoped, had been worth it for the unbearable tearing sensation that afflicted her whenever she dared perform any kind of spell bigger than sharpening Mistress Penn's carving knives. Now it was though there was a gaping wound in her chest that although invisible hurt as though it had been a steel axe not long slashed through her, and that was not as if there weren't plenty of real, physical wounds to be going on with. She leaned back against a branch and closed her eyes. The tree had been a fluke. Having been dragged what felt like miles, hitting her body against stones and rocks, her dress ripped and her skin also the crawler had brought her all the way to his den, ready for his snack, stopping to throw her in the air before swallowing as was their custom when - Oh.
She had hung suspended in mid air. For a moment, Aida really thought that might have been it, death, as everything swam before her eyes and for a moment there was no pain. It took her a moment to realise she had been trapped in the thick branches of an especially unusual tree and, adrenaline returning to her bloodstream, she clambered up as the crawler below whined and jumped frantically trying to climb to get her. So she had found a small space amongst the thick, curling, tangled branches and lain down and had remained so until the present moment.
The branches seemed for a moment to form a pattern as she opened her eyes, realising how thirsty and truly hungry she had become. It was lucky, too lucky, that none of her limbs seemed to have broken on that wild ride, but the bruising, the cuts and her invisble tearing wound had kept her stationary for what must have been hours, perhaps even more than a full day. With a pang, she realised that death was still a very real possibility. And that truly, the only thing that was standing between her and a trip to the afterlife was that pickled onion sandwich.
She made a plan.
Her magick was drained. Helping Bhen she hoped, had been worth it for the unbearable tearing sensation that afflicted her whenever she dared perform any kind of spell bigger than sharpening Mistress Penn's carving knives. Now it was though there was a gaping wound in her chest that although invisible hurt as though it had been a steel axe not long slashed through her, and that was not as if there weren't plenty of real, physical wounds to be going on with. She leaned back against a branch and closed her eyes. The tree had been a fluke. Having been dragged what felt like miles, hitting her body against stones and rocks, her dress ripped and her skin also the crawler had brought her all the way to his den, ready for his snack, stopping to throw her in the air before swallowing as was their custom when - Oh.
She had hung suspended in mid air. For a moment, Aida really thought that might have been it, death, as everything swam before her eyes and for a moment there was no pain. It took her a moment to realise she had been trapped in the thick branches of an especially unusual tree and, adrenaline returning to her bloodstream, she clambered up as the crawler below whined and jumped frantically trying to climb to get her. So she had found a small space amongst the thick, curling, tangled branches and lain down and had remained so until the present moment.
The branches seemed for a moment to form a pattern as she opened her eyes, realising how thirsty and truly hungry she had become. It was lucky, too lucky, that none of her limbs seemed to have broken on that wild ride, but the bruising, the cuts and her invisble tearing wound had kept her stationary for what must have been hours, perhaps even more than a full day. With a pang, she realised that death was still a very real possibility. And that truly, the only thing that was standing between her and a trip to the afterlife was that pickled onion sandwich.
She made a plan.