She peeled back the reddened hood that covered her face in shadows, letting locks of darkness cascade around her torso and hips. Red orbs quickly disappeared behind painted lids, her chest rising as she breathed in the fresh, crisp air of the canyon she was in. Seconds ticked by before she released that breath of air in a whoosh of sound and reopened the glittering optics that studied the world time and time again. In a way, it was relieving to be in the canyon, almost as though she could feel the tension she had once felt days upon days suddenly wash away. Her hands gripped at the long fabric of her cloak and tightly grasp it, like she was afraid to lose her sense of self amidst the reminiscing. Each memory that touched the surface of her mind was a beauty to behold, and for once, she was glad she had come to a place such as this one. Glad that pieces of this place were able to bring back memories she held nearest and dearest to her that clouded the ones that were bad.
Beside her, the colossal head of a snake slithered near, blinking eyes of brown watching its master as they roamed deeper into the canyon. Its fox-like muzzle often found its way to the feet of its master and bumped its nose lightly into her heels pushing her long or even causing her to fall upon its head. However, the reptilian creature didn’t mind when its master fell upon it, but instead, carried her along as they traversed their man-made path. Her slender hands found their place upon the bristled scales of the gargantuan beast, wrapping around the hooked skin as a means of holding on. Yet, one hand didn’t remain still, striking along the side of the reptile’s face as a means of praising it and caressing its features. She sat upon this creature comfortably, her gaze forward and unblinking as they moved, hand busied as it kept the snake moving. “Apep, vhat do you dink of dis place, hm?” she inquired, as though the snake was able to respond to her in the tongue she spoke in.
Mysterious Canyon was a place of peace and silence, but something about this place did not give Marceline that sense of peace. The rain that trickled down from the skies told her of a sorrowful tale, weeping as it pattered against skin and scales of the two. Her gaze eventually ran away from the silence and wetness of the canyon to gaze upon the darkened skies that cried their tears. Outstretching the hand that had been petting the beast, she watched as droplets of cold water splattered against her hard skin and rolled off with ease. “I feel as dough zomeding ist lost here, like it had come here zu hide avay. . . from vhat, I do not know,” she murmured to her pet. “It ist not a feeling of sadness here, Apep, no. . . just a fery tranquil feeling, ja? So peaceful dat it nearly comes off as such sadness?” Her ramblings quieted down and she let her hand settle back onto the head of the beast and her gaze to lower back to where it had once been.
Reaching backward, the woman, pulled the hood of her cloak back over her head, shielding off the droplets of water as they fell. Each slither deeper into the canyon brought her closer to a place she’d yet to expect to exist, and to a being of which she knew not its existence. And upon peering through the corners, this figure could easily be seen, standing there as though it was just a statue in the emptiness of the canyon. A light brush of her hand told Apophis to stop in its tracks, letting them rest there and gaze momentarily at the statuesque figure beyond. Daringly, her eyes wandered from the statue to an opening that had briefly caught eye as something that reminded her of him. She scooted closer to the bridge of her pet’s nose until she diligently slid off it with a grace most notable to the ghosts of the dead. Her feet had barely touched the ground, but she did not make a move toward the statue in the landscape, peering at from ‘neath the shadows of her hood.
A wispy darkness formulated at the tips of her fingers and accumulated more toward her palm before stretching out in both directions. The northwest of the mist curved in a fashion similar to a sickle, and quickly solidified into metal like that of titanium material. Yet, the metal was of black and orange like brimstone, curved in opposite directions as a double-headed scythe meant for butchering. Silver glares sparkled through the darkness of her hooded cloak, glimmering like reflective eyes against lights in the darkness. All around her was grayness, yet where the statue stood beyond, it held a silver glow similar to her eyes, yielding that it bore a soul. “Who are you?” she called to the figure, “by vhat means does a soul like you belong in a place as empty und peaceful as dis?” Though was this statue true to what she believed it to be? Or perhaps it was just a soul locked within stone, of which she could not understand?