06-03-2007, 05:09 PM
"I'm not sleeping." Cold grunted, his body far more relaxed now that they'd slowed down. Naturally the lids had fallen over his eyes and he assumed a faux slumber. "I'm... I'm thinking."
It had come to this and the ultimatum was to be decided or he'd just carry on hurt and drunk from exhaustion. He stood at his fully erect height, using a single arm to hoist himself to his feet, his visage pointed to the sky. It was here that he'd sacrifice what he hadn't wished to leave behind--so with a calculated yank he was freed of his burden, reopening the floodgates of royal blood.
Screaming out in frustration more than pain, Cold upholstered his shock rifle and tossed it to Koola. "Keep it steady on the wound for two second intervals, continue as its needed to close the wound."
Koola nodded in acknowledgement and put rifle to Cold's shoulder, a sharp crackle of blinding white marked a scheme full of hurt. Cold screamed out, the pain ripping through him matching those of the fires he'd marched through to face Killian. It was colder now than before, his massive frame clammy and wobbling from enduring the two seconds of unearthly pain.
"Damn, it didn't even close all the way..." Koola droned, ignoring his fathers plea for a slight delay and sending shockwaves throughout his body once again. Dribble came down Cold's chin, foam beginning to form in the back of his mouth, but Koola had stopped then. Although he wouldn't mention it aloud, he'd seen a jagged path of lightning attempting to unite from the peaks of KC's horns.
"Is it," King Cold gasped, his throat dry and the potency of his weapon being held against him discovered. "Is... is it closed?"
"No, there's still--" Koola started, but Cold snatched the rifle from his grasp.
"Gimme my gun, it'll have to bleed out again." Cold declared and fell into slump against the trunk again. His arm sat nearby, so he reached for its wrist and hoisted it upwards to investigate whatever was in its grasp. It wasn't a carton of cigarettes, as he'd hoped. In fact it was of unimportance, but Cold took it anyway.
"What's that?" Koola asked, noticing how Cold was cradling whatever he'd found as if it were his young.
Blackened lips curled upwards. "This is, what I like to call, a cliffhanger. You'll have to wait til the next post to figure out what it is."
It had come to this and the ultimatum was to be decided or he'd just carry on hurt and drunk from exhaustion. He stood at his fully erect height, using a single arm to hoist himself to his feet, his visage pointed to the sky. It was here that he'd sacrifice what he hadn't wished to leave behind--so with a calculated yank he was freed of his burden, reopening the floodgates of royal blood.
Screaming out in frustration more than pain, Cold upholstered his shock rifle and tossed it to Koola. "Keep it steady on the wound for two second intervals, continue as its needed to close the wound."
Koola nodded in acknowledgement and put rifle to Cold's shoulder, a sharp crackle of blinding white marked a scheme full of hurt. Cold screamed out, the pain ripping through him matching those of the fires he'd marched through to face Killian. It was colder now than before, his massive frame clammy and wobbling from enduring the two seconds of unearthly pain.
"Damn, it didn't even close all the way..." Koola droned, ignoring his fathers plea for a slight delay and sending shockwaves throughout his body once again. Dribble came down Cold's chin, foam beginning to form in the back of his mouth, but Koola had stopped then. Although he wouldn't mention it aloud, he'd seen a jagged path of lightning attempting to unite from the peaks of KC's horns.
"Is it," King Cold gasped, his throat dry and the potency of his weapon being held against him discovered. "Is... is it closed?"
"No, there's still--" Koola started, but Cold snatched the rifle from his grasp.
"Gimme my gun, it'll have to bleed out again." Cold declared and fell into slump against the trunk again. His arm sat nearby, so he reached for its wrist and hoisted it upwards to investigate whatever was in its grasp. It wasn't a carton of cigarettes, as he'd hoped. In fact it was of unimportance, but Cold took it anyway.
"What's that?" Koola asked, noticing how Cold was cradling whatever he'd found as if it were his young.
Blackened lips curled upwards. "This is, what I like to call, a cliffhanger. You'll have to wait til the next post to figure out what it is."