At the densest section of the forest, there is a brief clearing where a steady flow of water streams down the slippery stone staircase. The water here is cool and refreshing.
Staircase Falls has been rumoured to be the place where reality is met by magic; where peaceful spirits dwell. They are rumoured to have healing powers that are used to help the desperately hurt, though no one has experienced this, except for, perhaps, Kaive.
Become one with Mother Russia, да? Wolf<3/ Darkness IP: 75.69.70.40 Posted on June 29, 2013 at 01:28:24 AM by Ivan Braginski
Ivan smiled darkly as he watched the snow fall lightly around him, licking the blood from his lips. The metallic, tangy taste delighted him, but only God knows how to measure his want for more, then, the disgust he felt for himself after the desire passed from his mind. A quick glance around him allowed him to notice the dark aura a round him, caused by a pale, but full moon shining directly down on him through the snow.
He grinned with now spotless lips and fresh stains on his teeth over the icy falls before him. The snowy white brute was perched on a stone in the middle of what would be a small flat section of creek before the water started down hill. It was completely frozen now, but the ice was still thin and he noted that his experienced paws had been the only ones to get a wolf over the stream today. It had been a game to him, finding the thicker patches he could stand on while still keeping his steps light and assured, like it had always been back in his Siberian motherland. He'd been only a pup then and it was much more difficult with his larger mass, but he still enjoyed it.
The Russian sighed contentedly at the memory of his homeland and the chill wind that came with heavier snowfall. Thus only brought back more memories... And before he could stop himself, it was too late.
Flower petals began to fall around him, beautiful and glowing yellow against the snow. A genuinely joyous smile spread across his face as snow began to mix with the sunflower petals. He looked around, the snow covered trees suddenly wound with glittering silver ribbons which had bells strung along the edges of the decorative material. They chimed in harmonious chords as the wind blew them about. His awed face suddenly turned towards the bushes in the north side of the creek, which had now sprouted delicate, pale pink roses.
The roses' sweet smell enveloped him and he heard an old Russian song ringing through the sliver wrapped trees.
Then he stopped, and he was staring her in the face.
"Anastasia..."
Tears began to pool in the corners of Ivan's eyes as he stared into her soft blue eyes. Her figure was white as his own as she sat in a patch of matching snow on the ice before him. The only difference,beside gender, was that she was perfect: lacking the scars and traces of dried blood. He blinked, wishing away tears of utter joy as well as a twinge of sadness at finding his angel once again.
But when he opened his violet orbs once again, he saw Anastasia lying dead in front of him. Whipping around, everything from his earlier vision was destroyed. The bells broken and tarnished, torn from worn, ripped cloth, the roses and sunflower petals were wilted and bloody. And behind it all was the soviet national anthem instead of a chorus of sung well-wishings.
Stepping slowly forward, he soon collapsed weakly in sorrow onto the ice. Tears stinging his violet eyes, he lay surrounded by an empty, silent cold that seemed to grip his heart and mind, not letting him show any traces of what he saw to the outside world.
The brute blinked again, coming back to reality and sitting up. It was a miracle he hadn't broken the ice in his fall, but not much thought was put into that. A primal sense in the back of his brain could tell someone else was there.
"Ah... Привет, comrade. You show yourself, да?" The Russian Brute's voice was perfectly cheerful despite the recent events of his mind, and his thick accent only helped hide the hurt he was feeling. Only his eyes showed his thoughts and the deep violet pools were practically drowning in pain and insanity. They were a perfect window into Ivan's mind, all one needed to know was how to read them. Replies:
