Highway and Loco. [Open]

[Kaili]

The beast is lost.

That is to be expected. At least a century, or so it believes, has ticked by. The sand of the hourglass has flowed continiously during the creature’s rest and he has woken up to a nightmare. The horse cannot race the iron beast even if it wanted to, even if it was mythical. This is a time and period of advancement that is beyond. Paved highways with lines to guide man and not his beast of burden go for what seems like the entire world. So, the creature had followed not sure what is left or right or what is up and down.

Primal instincts have taken over and dictate his path. He does not remember which way is which except that it exists and always has. This landscape is familiar yet completely changed and he and it do not understand it, do not question it, simply survive it. None of this makes any sense but it doesn’t have to. What has to make sense is nothing. Hooves just need to continue their stretch, continue to lift and go down and continue a carry.

Rain has not dropped in a while and he is grateful for it seems like one great storm after another has swept through this country. His location is unknown to him, every idea is gone, except that he exists. Some days he is pasted to the roads and others he wanders, deeper into the wilderness he can find for the vast cities scare him for they would scare any animal that wanders too close.

Patchy grass on adventure had greeted him. He does not know how far he is from the paved path he follows. Even a creature of his stature has to eat. The white nozzle of the gray horse goes to the ground. The grass here is dead and will most likely burn away but he still consumes mindlessly as beast are notorious for. For an hour, he consumes, wandering only now and then and flicking the black tail away from the flies.

And that is when he eats what he most likely should have not.

Of course, had he felt it sooner he might have stopped. Had he been more akin with his magic and less like nothing more than a regular horse he might not have had this problem. Purple flowers catch his eyes and remind him of alfalfa and he indulges. It doesn’t taste the same but it still tastes so like a glutton he consumes and he consumes more. By the time he has started to process it hits him all at once as his vision is blurred and he may or may not be slightly high.

He should stop but once a glutton starts he cannot stop. By the time he has finished the area his vision is double and he cannot see. He stumbles forward and the horse, dirtied and gross, trips over itself. At some point his tongue droops out and he would drool if he had any water in him. If this is how to kill a god, it’s a good fucking joke that leaves him so high he is nearly dying.

Muscles are shaking by an hour and he finds more and he eats. it. A man is smarter than this. A god is not affected by this. A horse is dumb and eats more and more. No idea where he is, the creatures wanders, further and further. He weaves side to side. Finally hooves come to touch asphalt that should burn but he cannot feel anything right now. He has lost sensation. He cannot see so he continues further and further as if he is on some holy adventure.

He deserves this. There is a logical and thinking mind buried somewhere beneath the livestock’s fur and it knows what it is going on. This can’t kill it. It can’t but he knows he is risking his life he has just been restored. The joints of the beast quiver together and from the left lane to the right lane he weaves.

How fucking dumb was he? To eat and to continue? To let gluttony control this?

Control is a delicate thing and the horse, high out of its mind, collapses on the middle of the highway, eyes wide and dilated, breathing in and out.

[Silas]

Silas is as far from godlike as one can possibly get.

The grumpy surgeon was on his way to the city. He was going to talk to a man about a job. He’d been avoiding talking to any of the local hospitals about work, at least until he learned more about the pack that was at work here…but someone needed a consultation, and somehow had found out that Silas was nearby. He’d have to talk to those fucking assholes in Boston about giving anyone any information on him. Maybe it had been Eveline. He had no idea, but it wasn’t like he could just fucking say no. He didn’t give a shit about the poor asshole with a nearly inoperable tumor…but what kind of dickbag just said no to that? They’d have to go tell his family “So sorry your husband/father/lover/prostitute is going to die of this cancer because the doctor we called to consult with is the biggest fucking asshole this side of the west coast.”

He didn’t need that kind of attention put on him. Not when he was trying to lay low.

Normally Silas was an excellent driver. He’d made this drive many times, and his thoughts were preoccupied, as they usually were these days. It’s why he decided to try and stay busy, or drunk as fuck as it was, since he didn’t currently have a job. He could always set up some private practice somewhere and charge weres and shifters a pretty penny to treat them. He was pretty sure he knew more about were afflictions than any other doctor.

The possibilities were endless.

So of course he wasn’t expecting a giant horse to have wandered into the street dying of poison. He noticed the heaving form in the middle of the road just a bit too late to come to a safe stop. Eyes going wide, the surgeon slammed hard on the breaks, but also, unwisely swerved widely to avoid the animal. Adrenaline surged through his veins as the wolf rose, hot and pulsing in his chest. Luckily, it was the middle of the night and there wasn’t much in the way of traffic at the moment and Silas spun, unhindered into the ditch.

He froze, breathing lightly for several, long seconds. His heart was beating entirely too loudly in his chest, but he realized with some relief that that only meant that he was alive. As the situation spilled its way back into his mind, the man peeked out from behind the steering wheel, face red with fury. His headlights illuminated the horse, buckled in the middle of the street. Knuckles went white on the steering wheel as rage engulfed the man.

“You fucking asshole!” He barked, spit flying onto the windshield, as if the horse could actually understand his ravings. Silas was trembling all over as the adrenaline and rage flushed through his system like a white hot brand…but sense came back to him. He was a doctor. This animal clearly needed help. “I’m a fucking doctor, not a goddamned veterinarian.” He snarled to himself, trying to dig furrows into the wheel with his fingers. He had an appointment at the hospital to keep, and leaving the fucking horse to die out here in the middle of bum fuck Egypt seemed like a goddamned good plan to him.

But even as the rage attempted to seep all of the humanity out of Silas and the wolf howled for justice, he couldn’t just leave the animal. Sometimes he just had too much humanity for his own good.

As soon as he opened the door and a breeze entered his car, he froze. The wind brought with it the scent of the animal in the middle of the street and as soon as it did, the wolf went dead still. Silas was still trembling, but the wolf was becoming aware of what Silas thought of as just some fucking stupid horse was much more than that. In an instant, the wolf was clawing at Silas’ chest, trying to get out…trying to get something. He didn’t know what, but he held on tight, waiting for the animal to still. His eyes closed, veins bulging with the effort of it all. Eventually, as was always the case, the wolf was held back, and Silas snarled loudly. “God fucking dammit. Of fucking course it would be something supernatural. Jesus fuck.” The breeze carried his curses as he stepped out of the car, moving carefully as he kept his wolf in check.

It was just his luck that the thing he nearly ran into was something supernatural. As previously mentioned. Silas’ luck was the absolute worst. Sometimes he wondered if he had any luck at all.

Trying to keep his anger down, Silas faced the horse. With his headlights illuminating the scene, he slowly approached the animal. His steps were slow, careful. He paused frequently as the horse took notice of him, clicking softly on the roof of his mouth, trying to call to the animal. “Hey. Look here. I’m not going to hurt you. C’mon.” His voice got low, took on a tender note not many got to see these days. This horse might not have actually been a horse, but whatever it was, it had the mind of a horse, and by proxy, was completely innocent. It was a patient, and a scared patient. Silas was going into full blown doctor mode, something only children and animals seemed to get from Silas.

Still, he inched ever closer, hand stretched out towards the animal as he tried to get it to accept his company and eventually touch its velvety nose, or stroke its head. The first step to helping anything was to gain its trust…and he attempted this with the gentle clicking and the breathy words, “C’mon darlin’. I’m not gonna hurt you. C’mere.”

Even doctor mode couldn’t stop the next grumbled words from leaving his mouth, spoken absently into the wind. “The fuck are you?” It wasn’t a were or a shifter. The wolf could tell as much, what it was, however, remained a fucking mystery.

[Kaili]

It is breathing and it is death.

What he feels at this moment is exactly something he has experienced before. He has felt the touch of something he should not have had and he knows better, has known better for a long period of time but horses do not think, gods do not feel it, and men are able to make responsible decisions. The asphalt is burning hot yet cold ice against his long face and ruffles his beautiful gray fur where his mane, in a dirty and clogged masses, falls like a dress to the floor of the road. It feels like he is dying yet he is breathing. When he inhales, air from the Earth rushes in but when he exhales, it sounds and feels like a puddle of water. The ground below him is a wheatfield and an ocean all at once and the skin of the beast is crawling as if there is a thousand termites underneath.

Logic would tell him he has nothing to fear but a horse panics as horses panic at much dumber things. There is a man buried beneath the skull of the beast, somewhere right next to the god which flows both through the mind and through the blood. Somewhere there is a being that can process, a man who is enjoying the high versus the equine that is panicking. The horse cannot think and he has shut away his humanity as it is too early in the game, too early in his awakening and resurrection, to begin to think like a person and try to convince others he is a god.

The creature in panic is so distressed it both notices and doesn’t notice the impending doom. The creature is so out of it’s mind; it cannot even get out a shrill cry as it is illuminated by headlights. This is how he dies and it is fitting. He is to be run over by the very new technology that put him out of business and destroyed his hopes and dreams. He is to die underneath the rubber hooves of the creature of iron when he had simply just awoken a week or two ago.

But there is no impact. The horse cannot move because it is so fucked but nothing ever hits. The noises are so loud and disjointed as if he is only half there, watching the story from some television without any control and he is falling asleep. Skidmarks and loud squeals mixed with headlights make it too much for the senses. He can hear something. Yelling? Possibly? Probably? Deep down, intelligence although high catches “doctor” and “veterinarian” and tries to remind himself that he can be made for a doctor but then into the deep ocean he flies and nothing is left but a primal creature.

Footsteps. He can hear them approaching. Although faded and although the lights come in and out, the creature catches, “Hey. Look here. I’m not going to hurt you. C’mon.” Same voice but not: it isn’t angry like the other one and close. Maybe the beast should do something. He can’t see but suddenly his skin is on fire because there is a touch and a voice. “C’mon darlin’. I’m not gonna hurt you. C’mere.”

Pathetically, the horse tries to snap its teeth but instead does a lopsided head movement in his head. The stallion’s teeth close awkwardly, biting into flesh as if he has almost no control of his body. It isn’t even quite sure why it does what it does except that some voice, some tradition tells it to and vague fear. Then, the wind. “The fuck are you?”

Funny how even the wind knows the right questions to ask.

What is he? He is a horse. He must be a horse because he is the shape of one but a voice keeps nagging at him that he is a god and he almost feels as if he must listen but it is much easier to be a dumb and mindless animal with no responsability. The horse heaves a loud noise, legs kicking as if it is trying to move but instead does euless floundering that seems slowed.

One hoof manages to connect with the highway and with that the horse pushes himself up, getting almost off the ground before suddenly the creature becomes dead weight collapsing and nearly on top of the man but barely missing. A loud, muffled, and odd cry leaves the creature and its eyes go wide, the whites of his eyes showing although he looks lost. His body becomes twitching waves as he might convulse at any moment. It is seriou for any simple minded creature would be scared and in pain. Any creature without thought would be worrying about this although life and death escape it because it is a complex notion yet-- even simple things get it.

Action has to be taken and while he is nothing more than a dumb horse now and while he has accepted that, allowed that because he is too new to this world and this world is too tough, part of him is trying to drill through the protective wall he created. Logic must come through but it can’t. He is trying ever so desperately and like a person cutting in and out some of the message gets through and control is taken but it isn’t--

”Doctor,” the horse slurs out from its teeth, skin nearly melting off at this point. It flounders again in some sort of desperate move. Intelligence shines for a moment but disperses as a scared brewing noise leaves. Its mouth opens and hangs, as if frozen in some sort of odd twist of control and drugs, before it closes with a clang.

There was a light in there, somewhere, a brief moment of brilliance and intelligence, but then it is gone.