Gothica v.8 // [Garnet & Marceline; day 1]
Feb 20, 2024 12:21:54 GMT -5
Post by admin kay on Feb 20, 2024 12:21:54 GMT -5
The farther Garnet wandered the quieter it became. It wasn't simply the lack of screaming tributes or the cracking of shattered glass beneath his feet. The snow all around grew softer, wetter, heavier. It masked his footfalls and closed in ever closer. The trees, at first stark pines, gave way to bluegreen spruces, their branches heavy with needles.
Behind him stalked a noble beast, a full crown of antlers adorning his head. He kept a steady pace some twenty yards behind Garnet. And though he had soft eyes and a fuzzy muzzle, Garnet did not trust that he would not be trampled.
Now and then in the forest a branch would snap under the snow's weight and send Garnet diving into the nearest snow bank.
Which is how, in part, he found the carriage. At first he'd thought it be a small building, possibly an outhouse. But after cowering for a few moments he touched the ornate ironwork and realized it was some sort of vehicle.
A sweat beaded above his eyebrows as he dug it out of the snow with his spear. Alongside him, the mighty stag worked, hooves pawing down to dirt. They almost had it freed when another branch snapped.
Garnet whirled around, spear first, breath stuck in his throat.
And when he finally registered who he was staring at, that breath came out like a wheezing laugh. "You are a sight for sore eyes, Marceline Jeon."
Behind him stalked a noble beast, a full crown of antlers adorning his head. He kept a steady pace some twenty yards behind Garnet. And though he had soft eyes and a fuzzy muzzle, Garnet did not trust that he would not be trampled.
Now and then in the forest a branch would snap under the snow's weight and send Garnet diving into the nearest snow bank.
Which is how, in part, he found the carriage. At first he'd thought it be a small building, possibly an outhouse. But after cowering for a few moments he touched the ornate ironwork and realized it was some sort of vehicle.
A sweat beaded above his eyebrows as he dug it out of the snow with his spear. Alongside him, the mighty stag worked, hooves pawing down to dirt. They almost had it freed when another branch snapped.
Garnet whirled around, spear first, breath stuck in his throat.
And when he finally registered who he was staring at, that breath came out like a wheezing laugh. "You are a sight for sore eyes, Marceline Jeon."
