[As Shadow Milk shifts toward, Salt allows his own eyes to shut. The pain does not bother him. Nothing would ever compare to that day in the barren. And when compared to centuries of nothingness, he should simply be grateful.
And he is. If not for the fact that he is feeling, then at least he knows that justice has been carried out. For too long have his crimes gone unanswered. At least one small thing would finally be put right.
Breath leaves him in an instant as the sword plunges forth. A great wall of agony rushes over him, and then dissipates just as swiftly.
With no life to spur him onward, and cut free from the proverbial strings that had held him in place, he tumbles forward. As he does, a great neigh cracks through the air from the distant barn.]
[He kind of regrets doing that, considering how much bigger Salt is than him. As his life is snuffed out and he topples forward, his weight hits Shadow Milk like a flour bag and he utters a soft grunt as he catches him.]
[He stays like that, probably a little too long. Holding him like they were just having some friendly embrace, rather than Shadow Milk rattling against the body of someone who had once been a comrade. When it becomes too much, he will finally shift and lay him down, and there he sits covered in his jam until the body dissipates like he assumes his must have before.]
[Once it's gone, he finds no reason to linger here. While the woodcrawlers cannot harm him, that doesn't stop them from trying, and so he stands, slams the sword into the ground in front of the flattened patch of grass where Salt once was, places his helmet atop the hilt, and makes his way back to the Inn.]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2026-02-11 06:58 am (UTC)And he is. If not for the fact that he is feeling, then at least he knows that justice has been carried out. For too long have his crimes gone unanswered. At least one small thing would finally be put right.
Breath leaves him in an instant as the sword plunges forth. A great wall of agony rushes over him, and then dissipates just as swiftly.
With no life to spur him onward, and cut free from the proverbial strings that had held him in place, he tumbles forward. As he does, a great neigh cracks through the air from the distant barn.]
no subject
Date: 2026-02-11 07:21 am (UTC)[He stays like that, probably a little too long. Holding him like they were just having some friendly embrace, rather than Shadow Milk rattling against the body of someone who had once been a comrade. When it becomes too much, he will finally shift and lay him down, and there he sits covered in his jam until the body dissipates like he assumes his must have before.]
[Once it's gone, he finds no reason to linger here. While the woodcrawlers cannot harm him, that doesn't stop them from trying, and so he stands, slams the sword into the ground in front of the flattened patch of grass where Salt once was, places his helmet atop the hilt, and makes his way back to the Inn.]