I feel like I can take a breath now. I accepted a writing challenge from my friend,  gollandarr and this was it. I had to just let words flow, so apologies if you're confused at first.

I hope to upload a piece of writing every Tuesday like this, and I feel like I'm running out of options to regain that spark with writing. But still, I hope you enjoy it.

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Solace

The rain pelted down his shell, seeping into the gashes where his brother’s dagger connected.

The woods were a calm, grey fog, the rain piercing the verdant canopies and splashing in the mud beneath the turtle’s feet. He steadied himself on his staff, each step aching in some places as his bones quivered. Out here at least, he knew it was secluded, forgotten even, no tracker would seek him. His breath wafted into silver clouds in the air as he walked, the rain starting to sooth his cuts more than sting. Maybe they had finally lost feeling. The scattered fences and walls of farms and homes eventually gave way to limitless woods, the light becoming pure as he treaded deeper. He lifted a claw and wiped his brow, looking up to a patch in the trees. The skies were gray, but morning had passed. He sighed as he went on, he wasn’t even sure if it still existed now. His knee gave way and he stumbled, grunting as he caught himself on his staff in the muddy dirt. He looked down at his thigh and saw blood dripping into a tiny puddle beneath his foot, even the gauzy wrap wasn’t enough. He knelt down and unstrapped his satchel, looking for what he managed to grab in his haste. Barely enough. He wrapped the last of the gauze around his scaled thigh, the rain seeping into that too. For a moment his legs felt stuck to the ground,he grunted as he tried to lift his body and shell. The turtle sighed, his breath ragged, ancient.

“Leave. Just leave. You’ll only hurt yourself if you stay.” He clenches his beak, tears welling in his eyes as the mud refused to let go.

“You’re such an idiot, you have no idea what you’re talking about. You think she cares?” He starts to stand, his legs creaking and straining.

“…Just go. You think I don’t know what you do in here?! Oh, that’s a good one! You’re making no sense…”

“UhhhAAAA!” He yells when he stands up, both claws on his staff as it shook in the mud. He coughs and coughs, his voice starting to grow ancient as well. The echo carried little beyond the near trees, a wasted curse to the heavens. He growled in anger as he started walking again, the path becoming more furrowed, traveled, footsteps tracing through this place possibly in hundreds. The drops pattered on the leaves and sounded like a crackling fire, the forests only voice and comfort. The old turtled sneezed and took out his dagger, holding it to the knot in his pointed beard. With a swift stroke, it fell forgotten into the mud. He didn’t even bother blessing it into a new life seed, no last gift to the soil. He kept on, on to a place from a dream, or legend. He coughed. He kept on. The muddy ground slowly gave way to stone, rivulets of vine tracing through the wounds and cobble. Ahead, the trees darkened somewhat into a delta of stone pathways, the moss and weeds growing on the sides and around the small idols, each standing to mark a stage. As the turtle felt the stone beneath his feet, he felt them. They were whispering to him already. As he passed each of the stone idols, many much larger than him, the latent energies flowed from his clawed toes through his body, invigorating him slightly. Not enough. Even the spirits couldn’t produce enough power to make him reconsider, even their powers were waning. But even then, the way the ether flowed through his bones, his wounds, it was like a caress. His shell still stung from the rain even as it weakened in this deeper forest, but strong drops still broke the green blades. A bulwark, perhaps? He smiled somewhat, perhaps they could still feel his presence enough to give comfort, just a small shift of the branches to make a shield from the sky. He stopped at the midway of the path and started coughing, but it was much stronger; feeling the ether shoot out with each cough as he gripped his staff, his body leaning on it like a rock against a rapid. He heaved as his chest clenched, bringing him down to one knee as he hacked, trying to catch his breath. It felt like something kept stealing the air out of him, his heart sinking when a flash of ether entered his mouth, snapping him out of his cough. He stood up, panting softly as he looked around. The rain had slowed to a slight drizzle that left nary a mark on his shell. It was like an itch he could barely scratch. The cloud-hidden sun had moved lower since he set out. He shook his head,

“Not now.” He grunted, his voice as wounded as his shell. He trudged onward past the idols, some lithe, dancing rabbits, birds, foxes, stoic bears and snakes, each held a weapon while a few had staves. Their eyes seemed to follow along with the ether as the turtle walked on, keeping a steadier pace now as he passed through an opening in the underbrush and hanging branches. The stone path continued beneath him for a bit further, the trees fully covering the sky as their limbs curved above him, forming a kind of tunnel. The idols weren’t present here, but the ether still was; it lingered thicker than before. It was still pleasant to breathe, at least, making his lungs feel less on the cusp of shattering.
“What do you want?! You’re never ready! You’re always making stupid choices.” The memory came again as he walked, his shell feeling more like a burden with each step.
“Leave. Just leave. You’re making no sense.”

“No.” He replied as he neared the end of the path, the light dimming quickly before he reached the threshold. A wall of fresh leaves stood before him. He reached out and prodded it with his clawed digit, the damp leaves readily parting. The shrine. It was still untouched even after the falling out, the large stone dais in the center still rife with verdant ether. He felt soft tremors under his feet as he walked past the leaf curtain, the light vanishing from the small hideout. He tapped the ground with his staff, its’ tip glowing softly as a teal orb. With that, the tiny blades in the branches bloomed before him, flowing up from the ground to the canopy above him; small shards of azure light, flecks in the thick branches that curled and gripped several feet above his head. When he stepped on the center dais, the outer rings glowed and the ground shook gently as three large statues rose from the grass, grinding on ancient tracks until they settled and the dirt wafted from their faces. The same as the others, but larger, taller, more confident. A fox, a Sparrow, and a Turtle. He reached the center, the ether becoming so thick that he could taste it, as the center ring glowed around his feet. The silence gave way to a soft hum of power, the vibes coursing from his feet into his shell and nerves, giving him respite for a moment as he concentrated. He gathered the ether into his eyes, extending his neck a bit to try and spot her. The wounds on his shell had mostly stopped bleeding, but a stray drop fell to the dais and made the glow flash softly brighter. He flicked his head, catching sight of her for a moment before she vanished. He sighed and knelt down to unwrap the bandage on his leg, letting a bit more blood fall to the stone.
She appeared. A sturdy shell, crest of leaves and sapphire on her brow, a strong, supple body, spotted markings on the face just like him. Her form was a pulsing ghostly form made of the same light as the azure flecks. The tips of her hands and legs trailed off like the wind as she stepped closer, reaching out to touch his face. As her cold claws met his cheek, he felt the ether drain from his body, but along with…
His staff fell from his hand, and he was losing breath. As his legs gave in, the regal turtle smiled at him, and he smiled back, but he had to speak.
“I need…your help.” He grunted as he was lowered to his knees. “Mother…” He said again. She smiled warmly and nodded, kneeling with him.

“Wake with me, when you’re ready.” She replied as the azure flecks started to fade. The breath sucked from his body as his eyes closed. He could feel the summer winds caressing his shell, his brother’s voice fading into nothing.