Re: The Witch and the Wolf

Sniper21 Tue Jun 14, 2011 8:15 am

Or so it appeared. The glamour floated in pieces, momentarily disappated - but it had all the required magic it needed from her, and latched on like a leech as it reformed within its doorway, sapping the blue energy from her and magic from the walls like an insubstantial tick. A clever bit of magic, simple and powerful, and sticking like glue, the tongue of the flytrap. The Perfect Snare.

Tyler had no idea what had happened, already less than a quarter of a ways away up the stairs. Just run!

Batcat Tue Jun 14, 2011 8:22 am

Krystine swore as she saw what it was doing. She could feel it draining her energy away from her. It grew larger and larger, feeding off of the magic it was taking from her.
The process was like she was aging within minutes. Wrinkles popped up on her face, her eyes sagged, and silver streaks blossomed in her hair. With the last of her fading energy, she gave a final tug on the thing, hoping to snap its connection to her life force. She fell backwards, hitting her head on a stair with a loud crack, and knew no more.

Sniper21 Tue Jun 14, 2011 10:03 am

Tyler panted at the top of the stairs, well away from the entrance. "We made it -"

He stopped. Where was she? And from all around, he could hear heavy, marching footsteps, closing in a pincer formation. Oh, no. They HAD been set up! The Half-wolf turned to run back down, but what good would it do now? The area was surrounded by what sounded like three-score militia, carrying something that made his skin crawl. Silver.

The glamour simply held her, waiting for its trapper to arrive. Tyler was faced with two options: go back down and possibly be swallowed by it, or face the soldiers and hope that they wanted to take them alive. There was no fathomable way out of it. The corners of his eyes prickled with forced back tears. Mother.

The boy retreated back into the darkness to where she was, and waited for the inquisition, or whoever they were, to come.

Batcat Tue Jun 14, 2011 10:00 pm

Something poked Krystine. Softly at first, but becoming more persistant as she refused to wake up. Tyler, stop pinching me! she yelled. No sound esaped her lips, though. She knew, somewhere in the back of her mind, that she was in grave danger and needed to move, but she didn't want to. The poking turned into a consistent, violent jabbing. She didn't know where it was coming in contact with her though! It hurt her all over, and she knew it must be mental pain, not physical.
Slowly, she wriggled her limbs, one by one. First toes and fingers, then moving on to arms and legs, then finally her torso. She managed to clumsily sit up, only to come face to face - well, technically it didn't have a face - with the pulsing glamour. It didn't scare her.
What did scare her though, was the prodding in the back of her mind. Why won't it stop?! I'm awake!
Then she knew.

Her only son was in danger.

[[Sorry for her not doing anything, I just don't know if you're going anywhere with this. Rolling Eyes

]]

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