Alph Ruins | Early Morning | 17
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The small shards of ice from the frost giving way beneath Prince's feet stab into him with each step, but the tiny Ralts barely notices the fact. His feet are too cold to feel the pain, and only the slight pressure alerts him of the frost's assault on his feet. Small hands reach up to scrub his knuckles into his eyes, rubbing them hard enough to see stars; it leaves a dull ache in his head that worsens his headache, but what else can he do to stay awake?
Sluggish walking slows further as he attempts to hunch over a little more, a soft gust of cold breeze biting his face. Maybe he should... just go back... and lie down... just for a while... he's feel a little light headed; a rest should clean that up right awa- no.
With a cough he rubs his eyes again and grits his teeth, forcing his protesting limbs to keep going. Tendrils of excitement are seeping into his mind, curling around his thoughts. It fills his chest and brain, a hotness spreading throughout. It's been so long since he's felt excitement, genuine excitement, and it brings a shaky smile to his face as he attempts and fails to brush his filthy bangs from his eyes. Someone nearby is excited and it's infectious, the feeling pooling in his chest no longer just the other person's but his own. It adds a bit of a spring to his step, and the sensation of a positive emotion leaves his head spinning from giddiness.
He allows himself a little twirl, spreading his arms wide only to severely regret that when another breeze chills his frail body. It's quickly shoved aside; when was the last time he'd sensed positivity? Or felt it? Legends, he'll enjoy it while it lasts! The Ralts laughs, a little hysterically, letting his newfound glee seed and sprout. People, actual people! Just up ahead! Oh, if this is real, he won't ever stop smiling!
Everything's been so dark, so black, for so long; this needs to be real. It has to be real. It has to be. Another spasm of hysteria bubbles out as a giggle.
There's more now, a strong anchor of calmness, confidence. They soothe the chaos in his head, taking the joy and quieting it, relaxing it into something not as dangerous in its intensity; he's about thirty seconds from calming down when the sharp bite of anger and frustration set in, and he whimpers, wincing as the bitterness leaves a nasty taste in his thoughts and drives away the positivity. Oh why, why? Why must someone be angry? Should he continue onwards after all?
But... people... even if they're warring, they're still company. He can't spend another night alone, legends no. Please no. He'll go mad. The undead and their sorrow and rage will eat him alive without ever laying a claw on him. One hand brushes against a rib, and he moves it slowly down his torso, counting the bones as his fingers pass over them. His physical needs, those are a problem too. He can't go on like this. He just can't.
I promised Az I'd be strong...
More emotions--apprehension, but hope. Budding hope. Whoever this stranger is the Ralts silently thanks them as he feels the hope settle in his own belly, letting out a sigh. The anger is still there, but the hope helps a little, mixing with the quiet confidence and calm to soothe his frayed nerves. Yes, he can do this. This is something he can deal with.
He shudders as something else crawls into his head, claws through his chest. His shaky steps come to a halt, eyes staring ahead, empty. That... he... he remembers something that felt like that...
This isn't the same kind of anger and frustration from before. Oh no.
This feels more like that...
The Xatu. The monster.
A faint but colossal roar rips through the trees, and his heart turns to ice. He must be much closer than he thought he was, because he can see the trees start moving, and hear shouting.
Terror rips into him, threatening to shred him from the inside out. Prince's mouth opens in a scream that dies into a choked sob.
And the memories, legends, they won't STOP, it just keeps coming, and over it all he knows that bird is watching, just WATCHING, like this is all a game. His mouth is open; is he screaming? He can't tell, god, please let it stop, please please please please
The visions of gore and horror disappear as soon as they came, and he stumbles away backwards, almost falling over himself, as if that could do anything. Screams now, and he manages to right himself with a lot of flailing, gasping for air.
What happened over there?
(He's only a short distance away from the entrance to the ruins; they should be able to see him when they go into the area.)