Snowfeather
01-03-2006, 12:33 PM
Snowfeather arrived in Ratchet at Yichimet’s request. She would have traveled to the depths of Blackrock Spire if he wished her too. It had been over a moon since she had smelled his endearing scent and heard his staunch voice. Only in her dreams did she see him, and in those he became a weak, twisted meal for an animal.
She watched him for some time in Ratchet, hidden among the shadows. His massive frame moved with a grace she only witnessed from other Grimtotem. She stalked up to him, unseen and revealed her true form.
“It has been too long, Yichimet..” she quietly spoke as she felt the tips of her ears heat up.
“It has, lioness..” he answered with his gruff tone, not rude, but serious.
They sat down near the dock, both looking out at the port, but both within each other’s peripheral sight and began to talk. Questions and answers, mostly about Yichimet’s sudden departure to the Nether. Snowfeather was burning with a passion on the inside to spill her woes to him about all she had suffered since he fell ill, but she kept silent and focused on him. She didn’t want to go over it all again out loud, she had done enough of that in her head..every hour of every day. It was time to focus on him and look for a glimmer of sunlight to wipe clean the dark shadows in her mind.
Fate or circumstance, the conversation and allusions were soon over. Yichimet was tired, she could hear it in his voice with every word. It was not long before Snowfeather heard the familiar voice of her new Sister, the Forsaken Warlock, Daala. A few pleasantries were exchanged and introductions made, all the while Snowfeather felt covetous of her time with the Grimtotem. Snowfeather had told Daala many a secret the past few days, and she was nervous around her for fear of Yichimet learning anything unsavory about her. Thankfully, Daala kept her confidences personal.
It was time, Yichimet was leaving. He bid Snowfeather good evening and promised to provide some intimate time with her the next day. She watched him walk away wondering if this would be the last time she would see him. Once she could no longer see him, she turned her attention to Daala.
________________________________________
The conversation started off harmless..as usual. It was not long before both of them felt the heavy weight of responsibilities weighing on their words. Soon enough, the playful interchanges were replaced with realities.
“What is this proposition you spoke of, Sister” Daala asked. “You keep avoiding me when I ask..”
“It is not quite a proposition, but a plea...” Snowfeather begrudgingly replied. “You know more about my situation than any Grim, and yet you were not even one of us when I told you my plight. Now you are my Sister, and I look to you for your knowledge as a warlock and a scholar. I tire of this life. Either I find a way to live with this new demon leg or I end it. I can’t suffer through these nightmares every night any longer....” Snowfeather was deadly serious in her request.
Her words were true. Daala had accompanied Snowfeather in Winterspring when she quested to find her birth home. Once found, Snowfeather spilled her soul out to the Forsaken. Told her every dream, detail, hope and fear she had ever known. To this day, Snowfeather did not understand why, when she could have told any other Grim the same things, she told a stranger. The point was moot now, Daala was a Grim and Daala would help her.
The demure Forsaken wove a tale of woe for Snowfeather again. One that revealed Daala’s life before her unlife. The pain suffered as a lesser elf. The perversions of those put in positions of trust over her. The name “Kari” as the one that took something from her .. More than just flesh, more than dignity. Something Snowfeather could not understand completely. It was too painful to hear and comprehend. Daala told Snowfeather she killed this monster for his deviant assaults on her. Relief came over the Tauren as she heard the words slip from Daala’s mouth. Why, though was she telling this story to her now after asking for help?
Daala’s stories always made their way back to a pertinence in Snowfeather’s life, and this tale was no different. Was it trickery? Fate? Certainty? It mattered not to the druid. She could feel the anger and the green mist building in her mind again listening to Daala speak. He was about to make her stop caring once more. He was about to shut her out and resume control of her. She carefully put her pets away, her thoughts drifting to the burial mound near Stonebull Lake.
“What was the name of the Satyr you took that leg from again, Snowfeather?” Daala asked, without a hint of concern.
“His name.. What did they call him... Geltharis?” Snowfeather answered as she scratched the scar where Maledictus attached her new leg to the stump.
Daala looked down as whatever color that was left in her pallor face dissipated. She looked to Snowfeather and once again began to narrate a scenario. One that cut too close to Snowfeather and one that may tie them together more intimately than she could ever imagine.
“Show me this demon. I require shards if this is going to work. Hurry before I change my mind!.” Daala called out to Snowfeather as she called her demon steed and rode north towards Ashenvale. Snowfeather whistled for Proot, mounted up and quickly chased after Daala. Along the road, they met up with Lascivious and she joined with them on the hunt. It was decided they would hunt the denizens of Felwood for shards.
http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y83/Chilali_FelHand/Cloven/5.jpg
Six shards were gathered and the three women made their way back through Ashenvale to Xavian. It was not long before Snowfeather could smell him. Soon she could see him. His leg fully intact and beautiful once again.
http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y83/Chilali_FelHand/donor1.jpg
Then it all went blank in Snowfeather’s mind. There was an attack, a binding, and a betrayal. Snowfeather’s mind had splintered from the inner battle. She was no longer tauren, instead an entity of depravity and demonic euphoria.
http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y83/Chilali_FelHand/Cloven/4.jpg
http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y83/Chilali_FelHand/Cloven/2.jpg
He had taken over and he was none too pleased to have two Forsaken women dabble in his affairs. Remarks were made trough veiled threats .. Some truthful.. Some gathered from the fear in their breath...all hateful and full of resent and disgust.
Snowfeather fought against the Voice. She ran towards the water in hopes of choking him out of her mind. She jumped in and sank. He yelled in High Elven.. Demonic.. Low Elven.. As the water filled her lungs she felt him sleep. Quickly, she ransacked her satchel and found her hearthstone.
Thunder Bluff. Blurry vision and ears ringing, Snowfeather made her way to the flight master, brokered passage to Freewind Post and collapsed on the beast as it took flight. The Freewind master rolled her off the beast and tossed water on her face. “Wake up you drunk! You nearly drove that poor Ithu into the cliff there.” she shouted as she caressed the animal.
“Apologies...” Snowfeather grunted out as she tasted blood in her mouth. He was coming. She felt him swirling again in her mind trying to find the door out. Snowfeather tried to drown Him out again, this time with thoughts of better times.
Dancing with Grainger on the Maiden’s Virtue..
Licidion on his war horse the night he was free..
Maledictus in Brackenwall calling the Horde to battle..
Nights in Gallow’s End with the Grims drinking and telling tales..
Fishing in Aszhara with the Mountain, Lily, Clys, Grainger and Sehkar..
Fighting with Sehkar over chocolate..tickling Winslow..
Yichimet...
Snowfeather lurched and stammered to the lift, barely making it before it sunk below. She transformed into a cheetah and ran off as fast as she could for Dark Cloud Pinnacle. She would once again try to find Yichimet. Baring that. .there was always the walk off the edge.
http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y83/Chilali_FelHand/Cloven/3.jpg
Sitting at the funeral needle defeated in her search for the Grimtotem, Snowfeather contemplated her next move. The blood was running down her nose into her mouth and her ears were ringing with a cacophony of agony that no other sound could be heard. The water stopped Him an hour ago. The dust below would too, wouldn’t it? Maybe if she hit hard enough he would be tossed from her mind for good.
That guess would have to wait. He had wormed his way out. He had bested her attempts once more and this time he was staying. Snowfeather soon heard battle behind her and heard Lascivious screaming her name to the sky. Soon, more Grims arrived. Daala, Mohan the Grimtotem hunter and Thyrsta the Forsaken priestess.
“Make this look good” Snowfeather said in a guttural cough, “Tricky tricky, pet..”
The group approached with caution and soon they assembled around the stark white druid. The conversation was a sporting one and seemed to work in His favor. The facade was working, the tears seemed genuine enough... almost.
“Snowfeather, we must do the ritual. And we must do it now. Thyrsta here will assist us. You can trust her. I do not know if he is there or not anymore, but we cannot take that chance.” Snowfeather heard the words, but He was speaking now. Calming them.. Reassuring them.
“I’d really you rather didn’t, Daala. I am very tired.” Snowfeather mewed.
“You poor thing, you need so much love.” Daala tried to hug Snowfeather and He nearly vomited on her with disgust. He pulled away from her and ran towards the nearest bridge. He had enough of this game. They would soon see He was not She and He would be in dire straits.
She fought him. “Help me..” Snowfeather called out as she struggled one last time to be herself, switched forms to the cheetah tried to run for low ground. He lashed her mind like a whip on bare skin and struggled for control once more.
“Forgive me..” and she leapt off the edge.
Instead of peaceful tranquility on the way down, Snowfeather heard laughter. His laughter.. And then nothing at all.
http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y83/Chilali_FelHand/Cloven/1.jpg
She watched him for some time in Ratchet, hidden among the shadows. His massive frame moved with a grace she only witnessed from other Grimtotem. She stalked up to him, unseen and revealed her true form.
“It has been too long, Yichimet..” she quietly spoke as she felt the tips of her ears heat up.
“It has, lioness..” he answered with his gruff tone, not rude, but serious.
They sat down near the dock, both looking out at the port, but both within each other’s peripheral sight and began to talk. Questions and answers, mostly about Yichimet’s sudden departure to the Nether. Snowfeather was burning with a passion on the inside to spill her woes to him about all she had suffered since he fell ill, but she kept silent and focused on him. She didn’t want to go over it all again out loud, she had done enough of that in her head..every hour of every day. It was time to focus on him and look for a glimmer of sunlight to wipe clean the dark shadows in her mind.
Fate or circumstance, the conversation and allusions were soon over. Yichimet was tired, she could hear it in his voice with every word. It was not long before Snowfeather heard the familiar voice of her new Sister, the Forsaken Warlock, Daala. A few pleasantries were exchanged and introductions made, all the while Snowfeather felt covetous of her time with the Grimtotem. Snowfeather had told Daala many a secret the past few days, and she was nervous around her for fear of Yichimet learning anything unsavory about her. Thankfully, Daala kept her confidences personal.
It was time, Yichimet was leaving. He bid Snowfeather good evening and promised to provide some intimate time with her the next day. She watched him walk away wondering if this would be the last time she would see him. Once she could no longer see him, she turned her attention to Daala.
________________________________________
The conversation started off harmless..as usual. It was not long before both of them felt the heavy weight of responsibilities weighing on their words. Soon enough, the playful interchanges were replaced with realities.
“What is this proposition you spoke of, Sister” Daala asked. “You keep avoiding me when I ask..”
“It is not quite a proposition, but a plea...” Snowfeather begrudgingly replied. “You know more about my situation than any Grim, and yet you were not even one of us when I told you my plight. Now you are my Sister, and I look to you for your knowledge as a warlock and a scholar. I tire of this life. Either I find a way to live with this new demon leg or I end it. I can’t suffer through these nightmares every night any longer....” Snowfeather was deadly serious in her request.
Her words were true. Daala had accompanied Snowfeather in Winterspring when she quested to find her birth home. Once found, Snowfeather spilled her soul out to the Forsaken. Told her every dream, detail, hope and fear she had ever known. To this day, Snowfeather did not understand why, when she could have told any other Grim the same things, she told a stranger. The point was moot now, Daala was a Grim and Daala would help her.
The demure Forsaken wove a tale of woe for Snowfeather again. One that revealed Daala’s life before her unlife. The pain suffered as a lesser elf. The perversions of those put in positions of trust over her. The name “Kari” as the one that took something from her .. More than just flesh, more than dignity. Something Snowfeather could not understand completely. It was too painful to hear and comprehend. Daala told Snowfeather she killed this monster for his deviant assaults on her. Relief came over the Tauren as she heard the words slip from Daala’s mouth. Why, though was she telling this story to her now after asking for help?
Daala’s stories always made their way back to a pertinence in Snowfeather’s life, and this tale was no different. Was it trickery? Fate? Certainty? It mattered not to the druid. She could feel the anger and the green mist building in her mind again listening to Daala speak. He was about to make her stop caring once more. He was about to shut her out and resume control of her. She carefully put her pets away, her thoughts drifting to the burial mound near Stonebull Lake.
“What was the name of the Satyr you took that leg from again, Snowfeather?” Daala asked, without a hint of concern.
“His name.. What did they call him... Geltharis?” Snowfeather answered as she scratched the scar where Maledictus attached her new leg to the stump.
Daala looked down as whatever color that was left in her pallor face dissipated. She looked to Snowfeather and once again began to narrate a scenario. One that cut too close to Snowfeather and one that may tie them together more intimately than she could ever imagine.
“Show me this demon. I require shards if this is going to work. Hurry before I change my mind!.” Daala called out to Snowfeather as she called her demon steed and rode north towards Ashenvale. Snowfeather whistled for Proot, mounted up and quickly chased after Daala. Along the road, they met up with Lascivious and she joined with them on the hunt. It was decided they would hunt the denizens of Felwood for shards.
http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y83/Chilali_FelHand/Cloven/5.jpg
Six shards were gathered and the three women made their way back through Ashenvale to Xavian. It was not long before Snowfeather could smell him. Soon she could see him. His leg fully intact and beautiful once again.
http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y83/Chilali_FelHand/donor1.jpg
Then it all went blank in Snowfeather’s mind. There was an attack, a binding, and a betrayal. Snowfeather’s mind had splintered from the inner battle. She was no longer tauren, instead an entity of depravity and demonic euphoria.
http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y83/Chilali_FelHand/Cloven/4.jpg
http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y83/Chilali_FelHand/Cloven/2.jpg
He had taken over and he was none too pleased to have two Forsaken women dabble in his affairs. Remarks were made trough veiled threats .. Some truthful.. Some gathered from the fear in their breath...all hateful and full of resent and disgust.
Snowfeather fought against the Voice. She ran towards the water in hopes of choking him out of her mind. She jumped in and sank. He yelled in High Elven.. Demonic.. Low Elven.. As the water filled her lungs she felt him sleep. Quickly, she ransacked her satchel and found her hearthstone.
Thunder Bluff. Blurry vision and ears ringing, Snowfeather made her way to the flight master, brokered passage to Freewind Post and collapsed on the beast as it took flight. The Freewind master rolled her off the beast and tossed water on her face. “Wake up you drunk! You nearly drove that poor Ithu into the cliff there.” she shouted as she caressed the animal.
“Apologies...” Snowfeather grunted out as she tasted blood in her mouth. He was coming. She felt him swirling again in her mind trying to find the door out. Snowfeather tried to drown Him out again, this time with thoughts of better times.
Dancing with Grainger on the Maiden’s Virtue..
Licidion on his war horse the night he was free..
Maledictus in Brackenwall calling the Horde to battle..
Nights in Gallow’s End with the Grims drinking and telling tales..
Fishing in Aszhara with the Mountain, Lily, Clys, Grainger and Sehkar..
Fighting with Sehkar over chocolate..tickling Winslow..
Yichimet...
Snowfeather lurched and stammered to the lift, barely making it before it sunk below. She transformed into a cheetah and ran off as fast as she could for Dark Cloud Pinnacle. She would once again try to find Yichimet. Baring that. .there was always the walk off the edge.
http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y83/Chilali_FelHand/Cloven/3.jpg
Sitting at the funeral needle defeated in her search for the Grimtotem, Snowfeather contemplated her next move. The blood was running down her nose into her mouth and her ears were ringing with a cacophony of agony that no other sound could be heard. The water stopped Him an hour ago. The dust below would too, wouldn’t it? Maybe if she hit hard enough he would be tossed from her mind for good.
That guess would have to wait. He had wormed his way out. He had bested her attempts once more and this time he was staying. Snowfeather soon heard battle behind her and heard Lascivious screaming her name to the sky. Soon, more Grims arrived. Daala, Mohan the Grimtotem hunter and Thyrsta the Forsaken priestess.
“Make this look good” Snowfeather said in a guttural cough, “Tricky tricky, pet..”
The group approached with caution and soon they assembled around the stark white druid. The conversation was a sporting one and seemed to work in His favor. The facade was working, the tears seemed genuine enough... almost.
“Snowfeather, we must do the ritual. And we must do it now. Thyrsta here will assist us. You can trust her. I do not know if he is there or not anymore, but we cannot take that chance.” Snowfeather heard the words, but He was speaking now. Calming them.. Reassuring them.
“I’d really you rather didn’t, Daala. I am very tired.” Snowfeather mewed.
“You poor thing, you need so much love.” Daala tried to hug Snowfeather and He nearly vomited on her with disgust. He pulled away from her and ran towards the nearest bridge. He had enough of this game. They would soon see He was not She and He would be in dire straits.
She fought him. “Help me..” Snowfeather called out as she struggled one last time to be herself, switched forms to the cheetah tried to run for low ground. He lashed her mind like a whip on bare skin and struggled for control once more.
“Forgive me..” and she leapt off the edge.
Instead of peaceful tranquility on the way down, Snowfeather heard laughter. His laughter.. And then nothing at all.
http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y83/Chilali_FelHand/Cloven/1.jpg