(WELCOME TORBJORN! Just as a note, along with him, I made an entire religion AND language! Ill be translating his foreign words at the end of his posts with [these] marks, as seen at the bottom! Enjoy him!)
“Doukr, Dara. I shall continue my mission as soon as my Daar Vu’otiott has been returned to my side.”
Torbjorn’s low voice rumbled in his chest, laced with devotion, clouded gaze turned to the bright disk of the moon. Surely, his almighy Goddess would grant this mercy and allow him more time to look for his beloved? She knew the importance of love and faith, knew the depth of his emotion for Amaryllis.
The next future church could continue to wait, . He didnt have any followers to his cause yet, anyways. Not a place to settle, nor the wolves to make up the coven. Just a lonely, grumpy Sun Priest, searching for his Moon Priestess in some forsaken desert where nobody would know his first language and everyone would need to be shone to Mona’s Light.
Where even was he, anyways? A grumble tumbled from his maw as the bear shook his mane out, casting a pair of squinted, bright green eyes around him. A river, by the sudden darkness against the sand and the sound of rushing water, one that curved further into the desert. Practicality told him to follow the river and stay close to the only place in this desolate area that would draw life until finding the exit of the sands. Stubbornness told him to march on straight and find the way out sooner, hopefully before the sun rose and the heat returned.
Torbjorn Vidar Atreides strode to the water and drank deep, and then set off in his path through the barren terrain. Nobody could call him a coward, at the very least, as he stalked heavily towards the unknown hills. The wind struck cold against bare patches of pink, well healed by now but still sensitive; he ignored the uncomfortable feeling as much as he ignored the clouds over his eyes.
Once so perfect, so clear, and now so limited. Colors, thankfully, were still intact, but the same couldn’t be said for detail and definition. Where one thing stopped and another began was decided by a blur of colors, guesswork at best. It had taken many days of healing, of digging up unsuspecting rodents or scavenging to keep himself fed enough to survive. Of course, it got easier, but his eyesight never got better in the least.
Cursed to a world of swirled colors and guessing games for the rest of his life. Such a pity. Such a nuisance when he had Amaryllis to literally look for.
A huff of irritation left his nostrils, ears flickering back.
[Mercy, Mona.] [Moon Priestess]
Oct 06, 2018 02:36 PM
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