Jul 17 2021, 07:27 PM
Draco hadn't been so empty in... a very, very long time. Even Draconua was no longer at her post, leaving the cold voidlight silent but for the strange motion of the Aperture and the Spire's almost-breathing.
Zoey... She didn't mind the quiet, not really. It was a bit strange to be almost completely alone at home, but it gave her some peace of mind, and some breathing space. She knew where her family had gone, and all she could do was hope they would return.
Right now, she didn't want to think about what the rest of the Forge was doing. Didn't want to consider the blood, gore, the stench of death and the screams. They were far away, and she put them just as far in her mind. Instead, the six legged armored beast stood among the Womb, picking up broken pieces of chrysalis. She knew better than to take bones or pieces of gemstone, but there were plenty of shards of oilstone that clearly made up old eggshells.
Their semi-rounded shape would, perhaps, make for good light fixtures. She could hope, anyway. Really, it was little more than practice for her.
She had a job to do, after all, and keeping her mind and body busy with her work made it easier to ignore the still and eerie silence in the Forge.
Her talons clamped around a good piece, raising it up to inspect with her golden eyes. She focused, and her mandibles clicked, as she channeled her magic into the stone. The warm glow of golden light broke the surface of the otherwise dark and inky oilstone, making it give off a beautiful, shimmering shade of warm light that nearly blinded her.
It was a good piece... She set it aside, blinking the spots from her vision.
Zoey... She didn't mind the quiet, not really. It was a bit strange to be almost completely alone at home, but it gave her some peace of mind, and some breathing space. She knew where her family had gone, and all she could do was hope they would return.
Right now, she didn't want to think about what the rest of the Forge was doing. Didn't want to consider the blood, gore, the stench of death and the screams. They were far away, and she put them just as far in her mind. Instead, the six legged armored beast stood among the Womb, picking up broken pieces of chrysalis. She knew better than to take bones or pieces of gemstone, but there were plenty of shards of oilstone that clearly made up old eggshells.
Their semi-rounded shape would, perhaps, make for good light fixtures. She could hope, anyway. Really, it was little more than practice for her.
She had a job to do, after all, and keeping her mind and body busy with her work made it easier to ignore the still and eerie silence in the Forge.
Her talons clamped around a good piece, raising it up to inspect with her golden eyes. She focused, and her mandibles clicked, as she channeled her magic into the stone. The warm glow of golden light broke the surface of the otherwise dark and inky oilstone, making it give off a beautiful, shimmering shade of warm light that nearly blinded her.
It was a good piece... She set it aside, blinking the spots from her vision.