Much is the reason the squirrels are hiding (muchnotmulch) wrote in wariscoming, @ 2013-10-15 21:11:00 |
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Entry tags: | marian locksley, much, robin hood |
Who:Much, Open to Robin and Marian
What:Living..again?
When:Tuesday night.
Where: The forest, the same general area of the treehouse.
Warnings: Feeeeels?
God did exist. Not that he'd ever doubted, nor did he really see the man himself to back up his claim but it was a feeling. And then there was Heaven. At least he was fairly sure it was. The last thing he remembered, was a spacious place. One free of fear or fire. And instead filled with warmth and light. One of the forest near and of Bonchurch. It was comforting and it was finally his. Not a single part of him worried probably for the first time in his life he felt truly content. He didn't have to worry about what the next meal was going to be, or if he would live to see the next meal. In fact he wasn't hungry at all, and that in itself was a strange sensation. There was plenty of food but he didn't feel like eating it. He was always hungry as long as he could remember. He always had something to eat or drink in his hands or near by since arriving in Lawrence. But in that place he craved nothing. Needed nothing. He was surrounded in memories of friends and family and he was happy. Even his sword and shield were gone, Much didn't feel he needed them to guard himself though. There was no distinct sound around him, neither fear nor joy. Just quiet. Even he was quiet. Generally unaware in that moment to things around him until something strange pulled at him.
Something almost violent. Seal magic, a thing he'd nearly forgotten about.
For the first time since he arrived in that spacious place did he feel anything at all. Fear. Fear as the world he'd settled rather quickly into began to crumble away underneath him. He grasped for anything firm, but found nothing. The sensation was almost the same as falling. The bright place was gone and he was left in the dark. Left rather chilled in the dark at that.
On his body there were no injuries, not even a bruise or a scratch. He was dressed in the clothes he'd died in though, save his outlaw tag. That was missing, so was his hat. The wind was cool against his skin, causing him to fold his arms uncomfortably and look around him as his eyes adjusted to the dark forest around him. It was almost dizzying really. He took a step forward and had to stop. The world around him was loud again. It was almost overwhelming. He wasn't sure where he was, all he knew was he didn't like it and he was cold and alone.
He was not terribly far from the tree house but everything felt as though it were rushing at him, sounds, weather, it was disorienting at best. He took another step forward and stumbled on tree stumps that had been laid on their sides to act as places to sit. He desperately needed a place to sit. A place to gather his bearings. They surrounded a fire ring made of rock and Much sat heavily as though he were made of rock. His hands rubbing at his eyes in attempt to better adjust to everything around him once again.