Silent Isopel
Member
- Messages
- 39
A young child sat, alone, in a forest clearing, staring at their ratty, ruined boots. They were falling apart. They had walked so far, and yet they had nothing to show for it. Where were they travelling? Isopel, or as they were known from the place they had come from, Silent Isopel, was looking for nothing in particular. A place to be that didn't feel wrong. Or perhaps they were trying to escape something? These thoughts flushed through their mind, as they glanced at the fact their clothing was frayed at the edges, and beginning to become rags.
Idly, Isopel began to unwrap their face. They had covered it a while back, like a leper, afraid of looking at it. Though mirrors and reflection were rare, just one glance was enough to hide it. They saw something, at the very edge of their eyesight, slowly reaching up towards it. Something attached to their face. They pinched at whatever it was, pulling it forwards, staring at the wriggling maggot. With a clench of a fist, and the flick of a wrist, the thing was gone, but Isopel knew deep, deep down, that more were working through their flesh.
A kindly soul had given them something, at the last town they drifted through. A vial of ointment. Though the two couldn't communicate, Isopel understood the point of it. The man showed Isopel a corpse, a rotten one, and then a preserved one, and then the ointment. It was...clear...what the message one. Slowly, Isopel took the vial uncorking it and going to extract the ointment, beginning to rub it across their face. As they did so, the maggots ejected themselves from their meal, retreating as fast as they could, writhing on the ground. Isopel stared down at them, tilting their head. It was a little amusing, but that's all it was. They returned to their task, vowing to get up and keep walking the moment they could. The cold and pale light of the stars was the best one to walk under, because their light caressed them, giving a tiny fraction of an ounce of a feeling across their rotten skin. So they hurried, hoping not to waste the whole night on the preservation of a dead thing.
Idly, Isopel began to unwrap their face. They had covered it a while back, like a leper, afraid of looking at it. Though mirrors and reflection were rare, just one glance was enough to hide it. They saw something, at the very edge of their eyesight, slowly reaching up towards it. Something attached to their face. They pinched at whatever it was, pulling it forwards, staring at the wriggling maggot. With a clench of a fist, and the flick of a wrist, the thing was gone, but Isopel knew deep, deep down, that more were working through their flesh.
A kindly soul had given them something, at the last town they drifted through. A vial of ointment. Though the two couldn't communicate, Isopel understood the point of it. The man showed Isopel a corpse, a rotten one, and then a preserved one, and then the ointment. It was...clear...what the message one. Slowly, Isopel took the vial uncorking it and going to extract the ointment, beginning to rub it across their face. As they did so, the maggots ejected themselves from their meal, retreating as fast as they could, writhing on the ground. Isopel stared down at them, tilting their head. It was a little amusing, but that's all it was. They returned to their task, vowing to get up and keep walking the moment they could. The cold and pale light of the stars was the best one to walk under, because their light caressed them, giving a tiny fraction of an ounce of a feeling across their rotten skin. So they hurried, hoping not to waste the whole night on the preservation of a dead thing.