The five senses would always be highly important to the sandy-coated yearling and her practices yet, right now, one had been nearly disabled. She couldn't see all too well. Mahle had wondered off to Dragonfly Fen in hopes of receiving spiritual therapy, but upon arrival discovered that the whole place had been devoured by a thick layer of fog. "Bah, of course." Disgruntled, she let out a rather appalling snort. "Witchcraft, Can't ever have something go my way." Disappointed, she squinted in hopes to inspect her current situation further.
It was hopeless, Mahle hadn't the slightest idea where she was anymore. Perhaps she'd left the fen completely, at this rate how would she even know? Fog was spewing in more and more by the moment, and she'd forgotten which way she came from. 'If I'm unable to see, how will I find my way home?' It was a stressful situation, though not the worst she'd ever encountered. 'Keep your head clear, let the spirits guide you..' she sighed, knowing all too well that her deities never seemed to help her through similar circumstances in the past. 'Worst case scenario I'll have to call for help..' and prey someone was within the vicinity to hear her? Unlikely. The yearling had always been quite unlucky, at least, since she left her kin's pack that is.
"Is this funny to you? Gettin' a good chuckle outa this? I bet you are!" the medic snarled. Once again her faith was letting her down, what else was new? 'They're lucky I don't just completely disregard them. Ungrateful little beasts.'
Word count: 264
I play among the stars and then fall so low.
Mahle PsyxḗI'm a fugitive that has no legs to run.
I'm a preacher with no pulpit,
Spewing a sermon that goes on and on.