#starborn alignment

“Surrounded”

SA dump woohoohoo

Haggard and shocked cries call out from around the cavern she found herself trapped in as horses of all kinds and genders wandered about. Or rather, not wandered, but stared, dazed, confused, and afraid of each other in this dark and damp cave. Certainly, Ghoti had no idea where she’d come from or why she was here. The last thing she could remember before dissociating into a foggy haze was the cliffs of her home, just past the edge of Onea’s beautiful southern forests, lost in the sound of the waves while praying to Cascade for protection. That ominous feeling in her gut had been right - something certainly did happen this day, but what, she was unsure.

“Is this any way to treat each other, in this dark, abandoned cave?” Her voice, melodic yet soft, attempted to resound around the echoing walls as she strut towards the more feisty of the equines. “Are we really to come at each other’s throats like this when it is likely we’ll all die here, alone and terrified, without us needing to add to the stew?”

Her long neck straightened skyward as she tried to peer at the rest with her miss-matched eyes, through which a weathered soul could be seen. Her words held not the weight she was used to, but perhaps her reputation as one of those spooky hedgewitches might - at least for those who knew of the witches and their cryptic ways. Her bushy hair bounced with every step of her hooves as she sauntered, slowly, like a ghost, towards the altar with the items. The one wrapped in cloth was already inspecting the items, to which she tried not to intrude - though a simple looking hammer did indeed catch her attention.

The world was there, then the world wasn’t.

It comes to a surprise even to the empathetic Ghoti how fast things change. This fate is nothing like the one she’s attempted to read and predict before. It’s chaotic, corrupted, a terrifying force that literally rips the floor from beneath her hooves. She may be close to the front, but it doesn’t take long for her to fall behind. In, out, dodging and weaving, her crooked spine and elongated neck make it hard for her to rush forward and keep a perfect pace with everyone. Surely, she is not the last, right? Well, regardless, she’s running, and running, and running, and trying not to look back.

But she does look back, and seeing the world fall into shambles, warping and giggling like some kind of foal just out of birth, she determines not to lose her footing as she pushes forward to the rest of the herd. Then, she’s gone, devoured by the greed of the world with the rest of her equine companions.

Not dead, though. Still running, somehow, in the nothingness. Spinning, swirling. Her feet catch ground and she goes forward, as if hitting the ground running. It’s soon apparent that there’s no physics to reality anymore. The world slants. The floor divots. It’s all too soon that her body is now on the left of the path and the path is on the right. She’s parallel with what should be the ground, still running, then she’s above it, running up and then down, all while simply going straight.

The steady hooves of an Aodhian-born, War-Forged-raised heart plant her firmly on each piece of the uneven ground. She’s good at this. She’s done this before. Her homelands of Onea are nothing quite as extreme as these slants - the floor bending quite literally left and right, to and fro, like strange valleys and mountain peaks shrunk beneath her - but it has helped her somewhat. She never missteps, never flounders. Her feet are almost glued to the surface-

Until she slips. One slip, and the world shatters. Her struggle to collect herself causes more and more, and eventually she must slow down to catch herself. Fear rakes her hide and for a brief second, she believes herself done for. But she catches with a knee just before she can fall the several feet it would be into the nothingness above her, staring down at the other horses she could see scrambling each and every way. They seem just as confused and struggling, but something within her barks and she shouts to the others as loud as she can-

“Don’t give up! Don’t lose hope! Just! Keep! RUNNING!”

Could they hear her? Ghoti could hear herself. Loud, and clear, as if every other horse she could see had been herself staring into a mirror. When she ran, it seemed to match their own. Oh, Digend, god of chaos… you may have gotten her into this mess, but she still seeks your blessing to get out of it. All thoughts of Cascade have vanished in such a state of mind and place of being. There is no room for water’s soft flow in such a harsh environment. Live or die, do or don’t, Ghoti had no choice but to continue on and not look back in hopes she’d be one of the few who made it out alive.

With that, her back aching and her hooves throbbing from such a hefty workout, she continued running, running, running. The world continued spinning, spinning, spinning. She could still see it, though. A door, getting closer yet somehow further yet somehow closer. There’s horses already at the way, one of which was the bandaged one - the one she fixated on for now as a target. The smell of vomit and alcohol permeated the air and drove her faster, faster, faster,

Until she was right in front of the door, on top of a couple other horses, tripping, losing her grip, and sliding across the floor before slamming right into the door. She’s on her back, her aching back, and her neck is bent forward as she tries to look at the others. Who’d she hit? Who’d she trip over? Her long head slams back on the floor a bit too hard as she completely relaxes, just about collapses into herself and sighs.

copypasta from DA: