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dragoneyes · 11-26-2003, 03:19 PM

"Hey! What's going on? Is everything all right?" A man's voice reached Aldors ears. Was he being addressed? Why wouldn't everything be all right? He'd only lost his bird and his horse, why wouldn't he be fine? The tortured form of his beloved steed's body flashed before his eyes and he clenched his fist again, he must help, what could he do? "Maybe I can help, eh?" Aldor's fist relaxed again. Why would he be the one that needed help? Surely the stable was still flaming. The flames flickering around his Byrn's body floated before his eyes and he stepped back from it, he couldn't do anything.

He sensed another being approaching his side and his head snapped towards the movement. The movement stopped. The blinding rage that had consumed him began to melt away and dissipate. He could see a man's form through a mist of tears, he looked to be tense and ready for any sudden move. Why? What would harm him here? Another image came to him, a fist connecting with a chest with a satisfying crack. The fist drew back and flew forward again towards a face, a face he knew.

"Findur." he mumbled and took another step backwards. What had he done? He couldn't have, could he? He forced eyes to look upon his friend. Findur was clutching at his ribs as he hobbled towards Aldor. Findur could see the rage had gone and was trying to help, but Aldor wouldn't let him. Aldor put his hand up to Findur. "No, stay away." He rasped.

Aldor stepped backwards once more, he wanted to be away from this place, he didn't deserve to be here, he didn't deserve to be surrounded by such caring and helpful folk. He could hear someone talking, but he couldn't comprehend it, he was locked firmly in his own world. He fell to his knees, unwanted scenes playing over and over before his eyes. He shut them tight but the visions remained. He raised his eyes upward to the sun struggling to show herself through the remaining smoke.

Someone was approaching him, he couldn't tell who but he knew he didn't want them to come near. He ripped his leather glove from his belt where it still faithfully hung and threw it wildly away from him, releasing the last of his anger with an animalistic cry of rage. Then the tears came and Aldor let them fall unashamedly. He buried his face in his hands despite the pain and let his grief fly freely.

[ 4:20 PM November 26, 2003: Message edited by: dragoneyes ]

11-26-2003, 03:19 PM	#218
dragoneyes Ghost Prince of Cardolan Join Date: Oct 2002 Location: Completely lost track, sorry! Posts: 733	"Hey! What's going on? Is everything all right?" A man's voice reached Aldors ears. Was he being addressed? Why wouldn't everything be all right? He'd only lost his bird and his horse, why wouldn't he be fine? The tortured form of his beloved steed's body flashed before his eyes and he clenched his fist again, he must help, what could he do? "Maybe I can help, eh?" Aldor's fist relaxed again. Why would he be the one that needed help? Surely the stable was still flaming. The flames flickering around his Byrn's body floated before his eyes and he stepped back from it, he couldn't do anything. He sensed another being approaching his side and his head snapped towards the movement. The movement stopped. The blinding rage that had consumed him began to melt away and dissipate. He could see a man's form through a mist of tears, he looked to be tense and ready for any sudden move. Why? What would harm him here? Another image came to him, a fist connecting with a chest with a satisfying crack. The fist drew back and flew forward again towards a face, a face he knew. "Findur." he mumbled and took another step backwards. What had he done? He couldn't have, could he? He forced eyes to look upon his friend. Findur was clutching at his ribs as he hobbled towards Aldor. Findur could see the rage had gone and was trying to help, but Aldor wouldn't let him. Aldor put his hand up to Findur. "No, stay away." He rasped. Aldor stepped backwards once more, he wanted to be away from this place, he didn't deserve to be here, he didn't deserve to be surrounded by such caring and helpful folk. He could hear someone talking, but he couldn't comprehend it, he was locked firmly in his own world. He fell to his knees, unwanted scenes playing over and over before his eyes. He shut them tight but the visions remained. He raised his eyes upward to the sun struggling to show herself through the remaining smoke. Someone was approaching him, he couldn't tell who but he knew he didn't want them to come near. He ripped his leather glove from his belt where it still faithfully hung and threw it wildly away from him, releasing the last of his anger with an animalistic cry of rage. Then the tears came and Aldor let them fall unashamedly. He buried his face in his hands despite the pain and let his grief fly freely. [ 4:20 PM November 26, 2003: Message edited by: dragoneyes ] __________________ "We might succeed in roasting Pippin alive inside." - Frodo.