Atlantic Roleplay Community Boards

[zeyla]

---

Throughout her entire life, Zeyla loved animals and in fact, preferred the company of animals over people. Animals never lied or schemed or let you down--you got what you saw with them. Growing up as the only child of a stableman at Britain's castle it never occurred to her that there might be another profession intended for her, it seemed she was born to heal and tame and nurture the more innocent creatures of the land.

The last few years saw many triumphs with her animal friends, and almost as many failures with her attempts to make human connections. The word 'friend' seemed alien to her in the context of other people; friends ultimately left a person hurting, as far as she could see. It was a sore subject with Zeyla, and was the excuse she needed to spend her days and nights roaming the forests and canyons and everything in between with her 'real' friends.

So it was with great shock she received her first serious horse related accident. Laying in the cot at Hanse's, she thought for not the first time that she probably should have sought some sort of medical attention for her wounds, but could not bring herself to. Her ego was wounded as bad as her body, which now sported a variety of bruises, bumps, and a handful of fractures. How ungracefully she was thrown from the frightened, bucking, and frantic Sombra. Still, she could not figure out exactly what happened. At one moment the pair were riding along without an apparent care in the world, and the next moment that world was upside down. Literally. Over and over she pondered the too-quick series of events, wondering what she did wrong.

But there was nobody to talk to about these confused feelings, nobody to confide in. No girlfriends to giggle with and talk about boys. No life of her own.

Stop it! she silently demanded of herself. This sounds alot like self pity, kiddo, and you don't play that game, remember?

Trying to force the unwelcome series of thoughts from her mind, Zeyla rolled onto her side so she could continue sulking and stare at the wall. However, the effort was interrupted by a bolt of white hot pain that shot through her chest, causing her to scream in response. When the screaming subsided, a quiet whimper issued from her mouth, and Zeyla wrapped her arms around her chest in an effort to calm the stabbing pain of her broken ribs.

Suddenly, she seemed to have forgotten that she didn't play the self pity game.
_________________
Riding--The art of keeping a horse between yourself and the ground.

[zeyla]

---

After several turns of the clock, Zeyla sat up on the cot. Wincing, biting the inside of her mouth to refrain from crying out, she sat dazed and frightened. She was suddenly wracked with a deep, harsh cough that ground the broken ribs together.

Dark spots danced before her line of vision from the ever increasing pain, even though the room was so dimly lit. The cough came again, and with it came a soft cry. However, this time the cry was not of pain. It was pure fear. Mute and terrified, she sat in the gloom staring at the blood she'd coughed into her hand.

It was time to get help. If only she could get up and ask for it.
_________________
Riding--The art of keeping a horse between yourself and the ground.