A rather curious sensation this was for Tobanyo; after centuries of knowing no rein and acknowledging no master. It first came crawling in as a certain kind of numbness, occasions on which a hoof would not want to give report over whether it made contact or not. Antlers grazing his side, but nothing to make him feel it. Though not bad at all. Utter cheer, almost mad laughter made his way up to his head. Exhilarating, this was. The number he grew, the more vicious became his moves. He struck harder, he forgot the limits completely. Had he overcome the final frontier of his; the need to have a physical shell?



Death. Probably an antagonist as unyielding and dauntless as he always had pictured himself. Death did not give in, death always came taking what he wanted, what rightfully was his. Like he did. All his life, or rather... existance. It was necessity and pride likewise for him; two driving factors. The utter need to bargain in order to survive, to rob what he needed. Power. Energy. Lifeforce. There were many names to the same thing. Something everyone had... aside from him. Something everybody needed, but surely not as much as he did. For all his hostility, he still had been utterly dependant on what he considered inferior to him. And then there was the pride he took in outsmarting people and screwing them over, and over, and over, and over...
It had never been an act of survival for him. It was a game, and he was damn good at it. Not because he mastered the rules, but simply because he made them. In a sense, he was the worst participant ever.



Death. Such a sweetness, in the end. Despite the self-confidence he had always put on display, it had gotten rather dangerous for him the last few months. The standing bargain involving Aurora had been a chain around his neck; first just on a superficial layer. Like a necklace, albeit one with a weight. That just grew heavier and heavier. There had been times he had almost forgotten her, but the chain wouldn't. Never. And as the months passed by, it began to carve its way into his flesh, searing and tearing it. Impossible to ignore.
The relief he felt when that chain finally was being lifted as Aurora fell to the ground – impossible to describe, either. Like taking a long breath after almost-suffocation. Like seeing a light after an endless night. His obsession did not stop though...



Death. It was not what he wanted to give her right away. That time, it did not seem fair. Not for the months of torment she cost him, the time, and ultimately the humiliation. He always had been a proud beast, and having a mere caribou defy him – no. She would need to suffer. Suffer in his own sphere, the monochromatic nightmare. The place where he was essentially alpha and omega alike; her jailor, her master, her end. It should have been a slow, slow process of destroying her, before taking the kill.



Death. Seems to be the only thing coming onto one without any kind of price. Death is what he now felt leaking through the cracks of his existance. The strain – the loss of power by repeated attacks, the need to heal the damned shell of his, the need to maintain the nightmare, source of life and existance, but not without any kind of fire to fuel it. Fuel – he needed fuel. He would just need to give Aurora blow of death, and he could get the hell out.



Death. In the end, as deceptive as he was. The way was barred, and Aurora beyond his reach. His last resort, so close, and yet out of his reach. The more desperate he grew, the more power he had fired away. The shell being damaged, over and over. Substance leaking. Consciousness becoming more primal, and fading.







That was just... Death.








„You... dork.“

He wanted to answer her. Shout at her, flaunt insults in her direction – but the nightmare was falling apart. And so was he. His very mind was sprawling out and leaking like a damaged cup filled with water. Little was left, barely enough to sense her talking.

"Yeah, you should be angry. Such stupidity is ought to make one raging, in fact."

Again, silence. The feelings ate what little was left of him, and for a moment all that he consisted of was pure anger – a roaring fire, that was consuming the very material that kept it alive.

"You had it – you just would have needed to kill me, instead of torturing me. Instead, you lingered to see what would happen. Nobody killed you, in the end. You killed yourself. Greed-ridden, and blind to the shifts around you. Your very own best discipline, and now your demise. Of all the vices, pride got you.

I'll quote you: 'Oh, the irony!'"

And then, the fire reached its apex, and at the same time, its utter demise.

"Just get lost!"














































All that was left was a dull piece of jewelry.













Voices began to call her.
Out of the prison, into life.


"Wake up, Aurora."

"Come on, girl."

"Please, Aurora, wake up."

"It's over."



And she woke.