~~~~ Static ~~~~
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Where: Caught in a freak storm, waiting it out under a stone overhang.
Feels: Calmed down considerably from earlier, & coming to terms with his situation.
With: Kirian, Siren, Regina and BlueMoon.
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Words: 648
Static stayed where he was for a long while, his eyes closed, but his ears swiveling periodically to stay up on what was going on. Kirian and Regina finally came in out of the rain, talking for a small time before they both bedded down for the night, and BlueMoon was up and about, her pitiful weeping nearly halted all together. She seemed to be coming around pretty good from his point of view, especially from what she'd sustained. A small smile sneaked up on him as he pondered. Maybe things weren't as bad as he'd previously assessed? I mean, they weren't in any kind of peril now, were they? Lightning still flickered imposingly from outside their little haven, yes, but where they were right now, it ceased to be a problem.
With his sense of safety and confidence beginning to build back up to their normal level, Static decided to open his eyes again. Sure, he might never get over what happened to him. In fact, he was almost certain that the whole ordeal had changed him in some mind-altering, horrific way. One that he would never fully realize until he started waking up in a tree, or with his mane braided, or something else equally as surreal. But the sooner he put it behind him, and started acting like a normal, civilized equid, the sooner he could try to scrap up a new life for himself and build on a plan. He lifted his head with a small shake to throw the water from his ears that hadn't already drained forth, and stiffly stretched into a standing position that left his ears faintly brushing the ceiling at the tips. The water now pooled at his hooves extensively, trickling out of his tail and chest hair with a hypnotic dripping noise, and he felt a draft wind between his legs like an icy snake. But he wasn't about to let anything else visibly daunt him. No, he was never going to be a coward again. Starting now.
When another flash of lightning lit up the underside of the overhang, he let his eyes briefly sweep over the group, so he knew where not to step if he wanted to move around. Spotting Siren was almost instantaneous, like he'd been looking for her all along without knowing so, and suddenly, a huge, twisted lump began to form at the back of his throat. The tall, stately stallion, once the picture of spitfire pride, had to inconspicuously look away, flushing slightly under his fur before giving a quick, skyward glance of annoyance. Starting now... he internally scolded at himself, and then carefully made the hair-raising journey to stand next to her. clickClick, clickClick, clickClick, his hooves seemed to echo as they connected with the hard, rocky ground. And then he was there. He didn't say a single word at first, just watched the rain as it pushed the grass over in its endless torrent, and then he gave her a kind of quick, sideways look without really turning his head. Yep, she was still there. Shoot, what was he going to say? And why was it so hard to talk to her now, when earlier it'd been like talking to anybody else? Deep down, he knew exactly why. Shame, for starters, from spooking like that. Secondly, he was now coming down off of his "terror stricken invalid" high that had clouded his true emotions, as well as his judgment. And thirdly... Finally, with a shy, awkward gesture of his head, he managed to speak. "Are you okay?" he asked her softly, still evading eye contact as he kept his gaze everywhere but the petite little mare that for some reason, at the moment, proved more intimidating to him than an irritable bear. Waiting for her response was worse than having little bits of your mane snatched out by hand.
no one understands what Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is. Unless you have it yourself.
