Snippet #1968638

Dúlin stood frozen on the rooftops watching the elder storm build his heart beating against his ribcage. He marveled at the fear the storm made him feel, it was the only thing that made him feel fear since the fire that nearly burned him alive. The storm was primal an uncontrollable force that meant death to anyone caught in it. A smile spread across his lips beneath the mask. Fear was good it reminded him he was alive.

He shook his head looking away from the storm. Running as fast as possible across the rooftops his cloak flapping around his shoulders, his muscles tensed as he neared a gap between two buildings near the eastern wall he sprang forward clearing the edge he was on a building near the wall.

Rain had made the roof of this building slippery as he reached the edge of the roof but he couldn’t stop he had too much momentum and the roof was to wet, he fell off the edge of the building, five meters from the ground his flailing hands caught a windowsill the force nearly ripping his arms out of their sockets but he managed to stop himself. He took one deep breath and then his fingers failed and he fell to the ground hard. He began to lose consciousness, as darkness filled his vision he watched people run by too concerned with themselves to help an 'old' plague doctor to safety.

He laughed weakly whispering to the air “A damned fire won’t kill me but the fucking rain will kill me a few meters from safety.”