Author's Note: Hello! This is my first fanfic, so please review and give your thoughts. I do not own Cynder.
Running. Running was the only thing the Terror of the Skies could focus upon as she moved through the brush with haste. Her breath was labored, and her limbs were pushing to the point of failure, but she could not stop.
Beware the bane that lies in wait
Or early death shall be your fate
Pain. Pain was a good thing. It meant she was alive, was running, was breathing, was thinking. Her heart was beating, pounding, resounding in her head. But she could not stop.
With hardened scales as black as night
Few can stand the nightmare's sight
Breathing. It felt as if Cynder could barely breathe, her lungs on fire. But so long as she felt pain, she was alive. And that was all that mattered.
Serrated jaws snapping with corrosion
Eyes and tongue tainted in vile poison
Tired. Her powerful wings have long lost their usefulness, the limbs for flight now limp and heavy. But so long as she could run, she could make it. She had to!
A beast made out of strife and horror
One would be lucky to see the 'morrow
Running, panting, bleeding, feeling...she was going to make it! She could see safety! She could-"NO!"
Cynder had not even registered that it was she who had screamed those words in terror. For she had stopped running, and tripped in her fatigue.
She hit the ground with a thud, dust flying around her and staining her scales. She did not get up, even though she had tried to will herself. Her body could take no more. Her body had given up.
"Get...up...come on! Get up!" She cried, gasping for breath, but moved not. She could move no more.
Laying in pain is your greatest defeat
For your hunter knowns you are meek
Dripping. Something was dripping. What? What was dripping? What was it?
Cynder's emerald eyes slowly opened, lids heavy. She saw what looked like a waterfall of green in different shades, viscous and slow moving. But it smelled. The smell the terrible. It was then Cynder realized it was not a waterfall, no. It was saliva. It was right on top of her.
With a start, Cynder screamed, being violently pulled out of her ravine of slumber. She was shaking, panting terribly in the darkness of her chamber, the twin moons cascading their light around her, as if in an embrace.
Heart pounding, and breathing heavily, Cynder sighed, "Ancestors...what a nightmare." A nightmare, that is what it was. But she had words stuck within her hend, echoing and burning into her memory. She did not know what they meant. She did not know if she even wanted to find out.
Pray to your Ancestors of peace
For you have met the beast