//------------------------------// // Chapter 1 -Faint Senses- // Story: The Ruptured Isles // by TheronActs //------------------------------// -Faint Senses- Seething sands awash away from the encroaching waves splashed calmly against porous soils, a mismatched pile of bark and wire dots the makeup of the beach it lays. A brown silhouette with turquoise-colored mane is huddling a piece of a dashed plank, the being in question was Photo'esque Frame. The cover creaking, then collapses entirely. Its material covering Frame with wet pulp, rousing him awake from his forced slumber. He hacks away the pulp sideways to gather breathing room and space to reconcile his predicament, as he swept away the last remains of what was his lifesaving buoyancy that was the rowboat he had priorly rented from the individual that left him, unaided at dock previously. "Anchor's blast! How long was I out" inquired he as the misty evening with its hue of blue and clearing views of stars dotting the night sky became his circumstance when his eyes cleared from closure backlash. "What happened! and where am- wait...where's my stuff" realization came upon him as his strap satchel was no longer latched on his back, he frantically stress about, desperate in finding his equipment. After milling the coastline for any signs of the satchel fruitlessly, a compartment washes about when Frame was 'bout to rest on his present circumstance. He limps towards the awash item due to tiredness, fatigue. Rummaging through the compartment revealed a soaked satchel, he proceeds to separate the worn and saved till which discovers his Daguerreotype camera. "Still works... I guess" a short inspection made, a dejected sigh aligned his psyche. 'What can I do now? Return back, not possible. The currents too strong, they'll just push me back' He ponders about till his mind shuts from the overwhelming fatigue, sleeps he does. ----- Wallowing winds howl faintly nearby, it progressively increases in volume till it was too much. Fest grumbles awake, when positioning herself to a rising posture, she jerks backwards. Holding onto her thigh, she anxiously swerves her head onto what could possibly be an open wound, to her surprise, there wasn't anything discernably terrible awaited her gaze. Again Fest intended to get a rising posture when again she jerks backwards. She deduced it was a pulled muscle and relegated to pulling herself upwards whilst simultaneously supporting her back cautiously. The cavern about which houses the wrecked drum carriage, its signs of great abuse reminiscent of the travel it endured to arrived here. Grateful, she carefully examines the cavern shelter she's inhabiting, deciding best to awaiting rescue. However, knowing how long she'd wait to receiving help is undetermined, she opted to make plans for the long haul. Swirling winds caress the grasslands that marks the beginning of rivulets flowing across the green pastures plateau, from stream to rapids that breakaway to smaller channels within the many formed crevasses to which the center forms a natural canyon. A bastion of red and orange to spires and cliffs bore the landscape, open towards fault geography which splits the canyon walls abruptly, to the estuary below. Waterways splitting evenly across the plains pictured in braided arrangements. Photo’esque Frame is aroused awake from thirst and seldom begins pacing himself into the jungle behind him. Brushing against the scraping dead leaves littering the jungle floors around, he hears serene chimes of droplets hitting stones. Frame moves adjacent towards the source before arriving upon a small opening which came outward flow freshwater. Frame surrenders control to his desires and rushes muzzle deep the opening, the water rushes through his esophagus, relieving the aching throat and dried tongue. Several minutes passed till Frame was satisfied with his drinking desires. He exclaims a relatively sound grunt from the pressure undone from his previous near-dehydration experience. As Frame recollects himself and properly observed his surroundings, he froze. Someone was wading though the same receiving stream on the opposite end, he couldn’t properly identify whom it was, the fog formed had blurred the appearance greatly. ----- Dwell Fest stumble upon misstep of a smoothen surface facing an undergrowth, she balances herself a proper degree for assessing the environment better to which she encounters a dim show lighting. However wispy were the entrance made to be, she figured it better than her explore aimlessly. Finding a possible exit is resoundingly more hopeful compared to being stuck without a hope way out of the confines of this cavern. She made her way to the exit way which upon closer distance revealed to be caved in, blocked by clumps of dry gravel and chunks of limestone. Fest figures it would be easier to buck her way out instead of sorting the mess pile one-by-one. Fest proper her hind hooves towards the mess pile, she promptly leapt them to gain momentum and bucked her blocked exit. The resulting explosion followed made shockwaves, echoing the cavern itself afterwards, amplified it were as due to the confine’s surfaces reflectivity. From the cavern entrance made, leapt Fest towards a marsh patch, helping her in a cushioned landing albeit slightly messy. "*splash* ptuh-tuh..." Fest blows off the caught mulch on her muzzle, steadily tilted her gaze upward, she looks across what is presumably a lake but with shallow depth. "Ughh..." Fest croaked a sob, an expression aided made elicit by the apparent outlook defining her situation. She was somewhere unknown and vast, a probable likelihood if she were ever found it be bones only left and---, "...hello". Fest paused. Did she just heard someone said hello?, no it couldn't have been someone, her mind's probably had conjured a false voice to encourage hope. It must be that or it could really be some---, "...Any-", "Here!" She yelled, the voice seemingly startled the voice and herself apparently. ----- "...Here!". Frame gasped, a large inhale of air evident from the suction noise transpired. There's someone here, he mindfully side-steps across the pools to encroach upon the the voice's direction and inspect of what was that spoke. As he trails across the leading edge of the prevalent marshes, the figure became much clearer, a mare to be exact was the figure standing adjacent to a blown out cave entrance. "Hey there, you good?" excellent work Frame.