Yeah, tell that to the person living it. Even knowing it was a dream it was hard not to take it seriously. It felt too real, too dangerous. Worse, something like this could easily happen outside of a dream in this world.
Rude didn't recognize the village but it easily could have been one out in the Wilde somewhere hidden. It looked as grotesque as it did familiar at this point. The witches' magic was in access and the monsters here were more feral looking than any he was commonly used to seeing--but it was still within the realm of this world. Strangely familiar even in its unfamiliarity.
It gave him a bad feeling. This place. He didn't like it.
He wandered for a time. That strange passage of time that only a dream could produce. Before everything went crazy.
He was half expecting it really. That didn't make it any less sudden or scary when it happened. Rude was very suddenly ill at ease. Frightened, almost, except that wasn't really in his vocabulary. Concerned then. Very concerned.
Everyone knew that dragons were highly susceptible to the Cwyld. And here it was, bubbling up all around, like a volatile hot spring. He wanted his money back, thanks. Time to go home. Time to wake up.
It wasn't his favorite pastime--to flee--but he damn knew when to retreat when it was necessary. And it was definitely necessary right now. If only it had been that easy.
---
This is what.... this is what Reno had endured.... all that time.... why would he have done that?
Rude's thoughts were fuzzy, strained. His whole body was on fire and his mind was dulled by the pain and stupor brought from the infection. All he could keep circling around in his head were thoughts about Reno's infection from a month ago.
He didn't realize he'd stumbled into someone, or maybe it was that someone had tried to get his attention and he'd turned towards them with stumbling steps. This wasn't like him at all. He was always so strong, confident, firm. Now he was having a hard time moving much less thinking straight.
He squinted at the person in front of him--and bared his fangs.]
...cwyld infection.
[He was covered in it. Black marks crept up from below his suit collar to spread their way across his face. One of his horns was already dripping infectious liquid from a line that wove its way up the spike. His wings were normally a healthy black leather with vibrant purple highlights--now sickenly darkened and pulsing with disease. His tail drug limply behind him, mostly inert and looking as if it would fall off any second. A horrible sight to see. Rude could feel it, but not see it.
Barrett might have a hard time recognizing the Turk. Or maybe not despite the changes. The most obvious feature was the sunglasses from home that the dragon-man refused to give up.
He coughed and cringed from the pain it brought.]
...Worse than..imagined... [He bared his fangs again, dripping black ooze.] ...Don't hesitate. Kill it. It won't stop. Too far...
II.
Yeah, tell that to the person living it. Even knowing it was a dream it was hard not to take it seriously. It felt too real, too dangerous. Worse, something like this could easily happen outside of a dream in this world.
Rude didn't recognize the village but it easily could have been one out in the Wilde somewhere hidden. It looked as grotesque as it did familiar at this point. The witches' magic was in access and the monsters here were more feral looking than any he was commonly used to seeing--but it was still within the realm of this world. Strangely familiar even in its unfamiliarity.
It gave him a bad feeling. This place. He didn't like it.
He wandered for a time. That strange passage of time that only a dream could produce. Before everything went crazy.
He was half expecting it really. That didn't make it any less sudden or scary when it happened. Rude was very suddenly ill at ease. Frightened, almost, except that wasn't really in his vocabulary. Concerned then. Very concerned.
Everyone knew that dragons were highly susceptible to the Cwyld. And here it was, bubbling up all around, like a volatile hot spring. He wanted his money back, thanks. Time to go home. Time to wake up.
It wasn't his favorite pastime--to flee--but he damn knew when to retreat when it was necessary. And it was definitely necessary right now. If only it had been that easy.
---
This is what.... this is what Reno had endured.... all that time.... why would he have done that?
Rude's thoughts were fuzzy, strained. His whole body was on fire and his mind was dulled by the pain and stupor brought from the infection. All he could keep circling around in his head were thoughts about Reno's infection from a month ago.
He didn't realize he'd stumbled into someone, or maybe it was that someone had tried to get his attention and he'd turned towards them with stumbling steps. This wasn't like him at all. He was always so strong, confident, firm. Now he was having a hard time moving much less thinking straight.
He squinted at the person in front of him--and bared his fangs.]
...cwyld infection.
[He was covered in it. Black marks crept up from below his suit collar to spread their way across his face. One of his horns was already dripping infectious liquid from a line that wove its way up the spike. His wings were normally a healthy black leather with vibrant purple highlights--now sickenly darkened and pulsing with disease. His tail drug limply behind him, mostly inert and looking as if it would fall off any second. A horrible sight to see. Rude could feel it, but not see it.
Barrett might have a hard time recognizing the Turk. Or maybe not despite the changes. The most obvious feature was the sunglasses from home that the dragon-man refused to give up.
He coughed and cringed from the pain it brought.]
...Worse than..imagined... [He bared his fangs again, dripping black ooze.] ...Don't hesitate. Kill it. It won't stop. Too far...