14 June 2012
Sitting in the tower, Wherein she'd been confined, Since Feather's latest escapade; This is where she'd slept and dined.
Her father, King of Opussia, Had conpletely drawn the line, Divorce and random running-off, Had been the final sign.
So Feather sat upon her seat, Looking over sea, Lonely, adventureless, depressed so much, A fading girl was she.
Awaiting knight to take her off, Rescued from the tower, She longed to move away from here, To escape her father's power.
Her long, long hair moved in the wind, A breeze conjured quick, The air felt strangely musty, Not-quite-right and thick.
The mist began to choke her, Fingers round her throat, Clawing at her lungs, Relentless, evil dust motes.
As Feather lay upon the ground, Tears streaming down her face, Her heartbeat fluttered weakly, Her pulse began to race.
Without a hero's help, and soon, Princess Feather would surely die, But who could help a choking princess? One who could not cry?
And so she lay, ragdoll-limp, Willowed limbs upon the ground, Wondering of her impending death...
Would she - could she - be found?
Save The Princess?! • Opuss № I