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and a partridge in a pear tree - treespasser - Printable Version

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and a partridge in a pear tree - treespasser - fulzanin - 11-25-2019

we'll see the sun come up again, we'll climb higher than we've been
Discovering that he could somewhat eat flesh had been a startling discovery. He had never thought that he would be able to eat the very creatures that would have tried to eat him had he remained a cicada. The taste was odd. It was far less favorable than plant matter, and such made sense. It provided more energy to him, a creature that commonly ate plant matter. Meat provided energy too, just not as much as he was used to. His usual food source had been the jungle that surrounded the Pitt. More than enough trees to keep the insect sated and more than enough to not cause deforestation in the process. That had been one of the first concerns to arise when the dragon had revealed his diet of eating entire trees in order to fuel his massive body. Trees was all the dragon ever had to eat. Then there had been the fire. The flames that had accompanied the raid - not that Astiar truly even understood that there had been a raid. No trees, hardly any plant matter. What was left was covered in ash, and he could barely manage to scrape out roots and shoots to eat. He had eaten meat in order to ensure his survival, but it was not as if he fancied it severely. Meat was strange, and it did not sit well in his gut. He preferred trees and plants and his normal diet to an extreme over the flesh of creatures that, technically, had once been his predators.

It provided him the energy needed to think of something he could do. He had been on a search for different trees not too long ago. Yes, he had grown distracted and accidentally wound up kidnapping someone. The mind of a person bound to instinct was fickle, but it provided him with knowledge as to where trees, hopefully, were. Heaving his body off the ground was already hard - even more so when he had hunger nipping at him. He'd manage, though. Astiar was bound to his instincts, and those were what kept him alive. The rapid flapping of his wings was loud and noisy. Getting across the desert was a difficult task, but the dragon had managed. Astiar's landing was a little messy. The sight of all these trees was absolutely astounding after searching through a burnt landscape for days on end. He knew he'd have to find a nice, big tree, though. He didn't want to expel even more energy to knock it down if it meant that eating the tree wouldn't fully satisfy him. His claws curled as he lumbered along, wings occasionally buzzing to announce his presence.

In addition to his noise was his smell. Astiar mostly smelt of ash, in all honesty. The ash of the burnt jungle where he desperately had been searching for plant matter to eat. Bits of burnt plants stuck to the gaps in his thick, scaly hide. He didn't exactly have the mental process to think about cleaning his scales, especially not when he was absolutely hungry. Barely any thought had begun to matter above his hunger - not that Astiar could actually think in the first place. Under the smell of ash was, of course, the smell of the Pitt. Fainter, yes, but it was certainly there. His mandibles clicked a few times, finally finding a tree of decent size. He headbutted and slammed into the massive plant until he finally got it knocked down. It wasn't a large tree, nor a small one. Just a random tree in the forest, randomly selected to be decent by his instinct bound mind. Astiar rolled the tree over after it had collapsed onto the ground, scraping at the bark with his talons. The dragon then munched down on the revealed softer part of the tree. His secondary feet scraped the ground, struggling against the stiff bark of the tree. His wings continued buzzing in a far more sporadic manner. Eating a tree was a long process, even for a massive dragon such as Astiar. Trespassing? It wasn't a concept in his mind. He was too deeply bound to sating his hunger to even realize that the smell here made his ashy scent stick out like the hay in a needlestack.

TAGS 9/4/19:
we've got a fire that burns within, we are the dragon hearted



Re: and a partridge in a pear tree - treespasser - spacexual - 11-25-2019

IT'S THE THOUGHT THAT YOU MIGHT HAVE DONE IT [align=right]BUT YOU CAN'T KNOW WHY    —    tags 
These days, things are not so bad. He isn't out in the marsh, constantly on fire, preying on whatever food came his direction. He isn't alone, struggling to think, struggling to talk. He isn't forgetting - he is remembering, he isn't lost, or so uncertain of his mind anymore. He isn't a weapon anymore. He has a family. He is free. He's free! And he's alive. He is living, and breathing. Even if things are different. So much more different than they could have ever seen coming. He has made it. Even if...he was the only one who had. At least he remembers it. At least he has somebody to share it with, despite everything.

And, even with this still, though, there are difficulties. It was only natural. No one could expect anyone to come out unscathed, perfectly healed. He is just a boy. He is learning of the world and its intricacies at his own pace, no matter if this has originally been his world or not. He spends most days with his father, though is starting to branch out. He slowly traverses parts of the territory he had not gotten to see so much before, attempts small interactions with his groupmates, and tries to learn more about the place he calls home. He actually is starting to feel safe here. He has a family. He is starting to make friends, slowly but surely, just like he's always wanted.

But today,
he is interrupted.

The scents are familiar. All of them. The ashes, the sands, the creature that held them. He hesitates, stopping in his tracks as he realizes it, stabbing him like a blade. He wonders if he should go back, find help. But then, he thinks, what if that is the wrong choice? The boy lowers his body, movements silent and slow as he moves closer to it. He remains in the shadows, his mostly darker skin blending in relatively well. And then he sees it.

This is the individual who had taken him away. Made him a weapon once more. And he was on their territory, their trees, once more. And he has caught Roy once more alone.

But he remembers this time.

"You-" his voice catches in his throat, heavy breaths accompanying it. The boy struggles against himself, fighting so hard against the idea of being taken once more. Had this creature been a worker for Jervis? But, the fox was defeated, he had thought. The Pitt had been taken down, he had believed. Why had he come back? This creature had seemed to care so little about him before. "G-Get out-Get out! You-You can't take-can't take any-anybody anym-more!" His voice cracks, trembling as it raises. Of course, the male likely had little to no idea what the boy was trying to communicate to him. However, the feeling of being stuck under his claws was still fresh in his mind, and he did not exactly get the chance to act as himself in those lands. He'd no idea of this creature's intentions.

The noise was coming back.

The tiger feels heat rise around his paws, still contained under his body, but a warning, surely. His glowing orange eyes stare up to the large Pittian, body stumbling back and forth.



Re: and a partridge in a pear tree - treespasser - wormwood. - 11-27-2019

i was born, on the highway, in a train wreck
with a heart, that was beating, out of my chest
When one thought of angels, they probably didn't think of angry, vengeful creatures. They probably thought of beautiful and elegant figures bathed in light, with warm smiles and kind natures, and for the most part, Aurum fit that description to a t. He was warm and friendly, always willing to help out and fight for what he believed in, and tended to be very motherly, according to some. However, the side of Aurum that often ended up forgotten was the angry side of him. The angel scorned side that wanted nothing more than to tear apart a world who had let him suffer within the clouds for so long just because that had been his job. His purpose. For the most part, that anger just festered weakly down inside of him, remaining dormant until he needed it for something truly important. It was that rage that controlled his powers, and that rage that had motivated him to do things like absolutely destroy Hastur and Ligur, as well as lash out at Jervis and kill Kydobi. The rage could be useful, most definitely, but he didn't often call upon it, mainly because he didn't often have many reasons to be full of rage. Generally, Aurum was a very happy male, especially ever since he had arrived in Tanglewood. He now had a home, friends and family, and a ranj that he was quite proud of. Not only that, but he had been a part of destroying one of the most ruthless and awful groups around, alongside the other brave members of Tanglewood, The Typhoon, and Elysium. For the most part, Aurum never really was that angry and vengeful – unless you hurt his family.

When Roy had first gone missing, kidnapped by the evil claws of the Pitt, Aurum had been gripped by such a powerful wave of pure fury and agony that he had nearly collapsed, desperation eventually driving him to go and try to rescue his son without help. The suffering had only worsened when he had been attacked by Roy, and he had been forced to see how his son had been brainwashed by the Pitt. If Aurum hadn't already had enough of a reason to go and fight the Pitt with all of his might, Roy just would've finally sealed the deal, and ever since then, Aurum had vowed he wouldn't let the Pitt touch a hair on Roy's body. Not only Roy, but a hair on any of his clanmates bodies. If he saw a Pittian trying to take someone or trespassing on Tanglewood territory, there would be absolutely no mercy for them, and Aurum hadn't thought even once of changing this policy. He had tried time and time again to see the Pittians as people with their own motivations and hearts, but they had the sheer audacity to not only kidnap his son, but to claim that they were in the right and refuse to give up their slaves? It was inexcusable, and it had led to Aurum feeling absolutely no remorse as he had killed Kydobi, even with the horrified looks in the background. Angels could definitely be vengeful, and heaven hath no fury like an angel scorned.

The guardsman had been flying lazily over the territory when the scent of ashes reached his nose, and he immediately felt a spark of anxiety, thinking that something was on fire. Diving down, the lion landed and began to slowly look around, before another scent joined the mix. A scent that made his blood run hot, and made his eyes darken – the Pitt. Faint, but unmistakable. He began to follow the rather clumsy scent trails that Astiar had left behind, sneaking carefully, but when he heard Roy's frantic voice? All bets were off. Aurum was flying through the trees, his powerful muscles launching him forward and towards the bug like dragon and his beloved son. As soon as he had Roy in his sights, he stepped protectively in front of the boy, rumbling softly as he touched his tail to the tiger's shoulder, "Don't worry, Roy. I will make sure he doesn't take anyone." It was then that he called upon the bubbling rage inside, feeling it swell up his chest and into his throat, his fire and earth elementals merging together through sheer force of will alone. The next time the guardsman stepped forward, boiling hot lava began to drip from his mouth, slipping past his fangs and dripping onto the ground, where it immediately scorched it. Fire licked at the fur around the guardsman's front legs as he stepped towards Astiar, caring little of the dragon's task, or how innocent he was. Just by being a Pittian, Astiar was doomed in the eyes of Aurum. Aurum roared with fury as he launched himself forward, lava spewing forth in all directions, "LEAVE, NOW! OR I WILL NOT HESITATE TO EXTERMINATE YOU FROM THIS WORLD." He was a being of sheer anger, and it showed as he threw himself forward, attempting to dig his flame colored claws into Astiar's thick outer scales and get a strong grip. He would then try to bite down hard against the male's flesh, lava pouring forth from his mouth as he did so. He was showing no mercy for Astiar, but the bug that had kidnapped his child deserved none.
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Re: and a partridge in a pear tree - treespasser - fulzanin - 11-27-2019

we'll see the sun come up again, we'll climb higher than we've been
Astiar was not capable of many things. He could not speak. He could not think. He could not calculate. He could not believe. One thing the insect could do, though, was remember. That was how he knew where these trees were. That’s how he knew where to find food. That’s how he knew where the camp was. Memory and trial by error were the two biggest tracks that ran in the insect’s mind. It was the way of mental processing for most lower species. Astiar was no exception. The words and sounds that formed speech were lost to him. They were only noises. He could only recognize them by their tones and the emotions that were behind them. His wings twitched and the bug’s head raised for a moment. His kidnapping stunt was mostly gone from his mind, not deemed important to him. He’d messed up, and now he was doing his search for edible material in the right way. The dragon had learned that meat was not his favorite and had no need to attempt snatching more persons. The blue colored antennas that Astiar possessed twitched. The tone was foreign to him. It wasn’t as if people were regularly scared of him in the Pitt. He, after all, was just the bare minded dragon who ate trees and did little to nothing else. He didn’t know what to make of the tone and so he lowered his head and attention back to the tree that he was eating. There was no clicks or chatters that came from the dragon. Hunger prevailed over that concept. He was starving and weakened from hunger, and sinking his teeth into the pulp of a tree to regain his strength was more important than the ideas of instinct.

Someone else arrived, after. More noise, random noise that Astiar was not able to comprehend. He didn’t understand grudges. Insects were not capable of such levels of thought. If he was more in tune with his dragonoid body then, perhaps, he would have been able to understand. Astiar could not. The noise’s meaning sailed right over his head, not able to be distinguished into words of meaning. What Astiar could understand was shouting. He had been shouted at before. Yelled at. The tone was associated with bad. It was associated with submission. Yet Astiar had no time to link the two together, because Aurum was already charging him. The insect was a slow thinker, after all. Barely able to think at all. Things were loosely associated with each other. Heat, fire, and a creature he had never seen before was not something he easily comprehended. Astiar felt sharp teeth pierce through his thick scales, and there was hear. Fire. His mind remembered fire. It was what had driven him to search for food here. It was what had burned down all the trees and left him starving. Astiar was subjected to a surge of panic. Fight or flight was instinct. Astiar obeyed his instincts over anything else. Loudly his wings buzzed as he reared up. Astiar rapidly shook his bitten and burning limb, trying to shake Aurum off as best the panicking cicada could manage. Pain, pain flashed in his mind, just as it had when he had bitten into a flaming tree. Pain! Pain! He had six legs to use, and his balance fell off kilter when he rested up onto the hind two.

The cicada did not fight. That was not what insects such as cicadas did. They were low on the food chain. The dragon did not strike back against his flaming opponent. His feet shuffled, his weight teetering. Shouting meant submission, and loud whines and whimper like chatters sounded from the insect as it stumbled. Something had to get the pain to stop. He was not able to understand what had been shouted at him, or what he had done to Roy to be wrong. He was not able to complete such reasoning. When Astiar could no longer remain on his hind feet he slammed back into the ground, wincing when his injured leg had weight to be supported. Lava being spewed into a bite wound burned. He did not know what to do about the sizzled, burnt, and molten flesh. He lifted the leg and issued another absolutely pathetic noise, shuffling backwards. Astiar could not comprehend the demand to leave. All he knew was the loud noise was not something pleasant, and that the burning feeling that surged through his arm was less than pleasant. His wings buzzed, helping him continue backpedaling away from the tree that he had knocked over, the kid that he had kidnapped, and the angry father that sought to protect his home.

//mobile and I’m sorry if anything is conflicting; the fever is back >.>’
TAGS 9/4/19:
we've got a fire that burns within, we are the dragon hearted



Re: and a partridge in a pear tree - treespasser - wormwood. - 11-29-2019

i was born, on the highway, in a train wreck
with a heart, that was beating, out of my chest
On some level, in the back of his mind, Aurum knew that what he was doing was pretty morally questionable. After all, it didn't seem as if Astiar had control of – or any, really – his mental facilities, and if the lion had been in a better place, he might've hesitated in his attack, or been reminded of Ament. However, none of these things were true right now. Not only had the Tanglewood just finished a war with the Pitt, but this was the bastard that had kidnapped his son, which meant he felt no sympathy for the unthinking but dragon as his teeth found purchase, crunching against carapace in a satisfying way. He really should've known the creature wouldn't like fire, considering the fact that the dragon was here for trees, which hardly thrived under fiery conditions. As lava spewed forth from his mouth and seared against Astiar's hard outsides and soft insides, the guardsman felt a grin of triumph spread over his face, his tail lashing as he dug down harder. However, Astiar seemed to realize that something was very very wrong, and began to flail wildly, throwing Aurum from his purchase. The lion barely managed to avoid colliding with the ground by giving a few strong flaps of his wings, his breath coming out in large pants as he focused one narrowed eye on the cicada beast. Lava was still flowing in thick droplets from his mouth and roasting the ground, making itself known with gruesome sizzling bubbles. Aurum's one good eye was still full of fury, stood protectively in front of his son and the rest of the Tanglewood territory behind him. Even if this hadn't involved a personal grudge with the involvement of Roy's kidnapping, Aurum still would've been pissed off by a Pittian walking onto the territory and thinking he could just go freely bulldozing down whatever trees he wanted.

As Astiar began to chatter and shout, screeching in submission, Aurum didn't feel any sort of satisfaction. Deep down he knew that the creature couldn't truly understand his orders, so he decided that he would have to drive Astiar back with actions instead. With lava still pouring out, Aurum rushed forward, swiping his sharp claws at Astiar's front and spitting lava at his feet to attempt to move him backward. He pointedly tried to shove the male back towards the Pitt's territory in order to make his point known, shouting as his wings stood up to make him seem larger, "Away! Away, you horrible giant beast! Go back to where you belong!" He didn't want to kill Astiar, not so soon after he had already done the gruesome action of killing Kydobi, but that didn't mean he wouldn't if he needed to. His ability to sympathize with any Pittians had melted away many weeks ago, hell, many months ago, when he had been betrayed over and over again by his attempts to think that perhaps they could be people. It was the reason that he didn't feel that much remorse over killing Kydobi – he still believed what he had done was right, even if it had been vicious and messy. This was just as vicious and messy, but it didn't have to end the same way, nor did Aurum particularly want his son to have to witness his father killing someone. It had already been bad enough to have others at the raid to witness him killing Kydobi, or when he had almost killed Roman and had to deal with Moth being so nearby, right on the verge of witnessing her big brother acting upon his ruthless urges. It was honestly pretty damn lucky for Astiar that Aurum wasn't stuck inside his hellhound form anymore, since if he had been, there would've been absolutely no impulse control to stop him from immediately going for vital organs to attack.

Perhaps one day there would be a time where Aurum could interact with Pittians without some type of anger immediately gripping him coldly, but that certainly wouldn't be a day anytime soon. Despite the fact that Goldie was now in charge, the guardsman didn't believe for a second that they would suddenly become a bunch of goody two shoes who never hurt anyone. Besides, even if that did happen, Aurum was fairly sure he could never forgive someone who had kidnapped his son, the young tiger meaning more to him than anyone else in the world. Even if Astiar hadn't had the mental capacity to necessarily deal with what he had done, he had still done it, and it wasn't as if the cicada dragon could apologize for it, given his inability to truly speak. Nowadays, the lion could really see why Leroy had gotten so pissed off about Draekon back in the day, considering that the two situations were quite similar, and Aurum was forced to look at it from a new perspective – not that he felt any sympathy for the Draekon side of things anymore, considering what had happened with that.
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Re: and a partridge in a pear tree - treespasser - fulzanin - 12-02-2019

we'll see the sun come up again, we'll climb higher than we've been
With the brief lapse in fighting, the cicada raised a leg to look at his scorched flesh. It had bubbled and sizzled from the burning and heat. It hurt, severely, even after the lion had been thrown away from the wound. It burned still, and his whines were filled with echoes of pain. His wings buzzed slowly, uncertain what he could do to ease the wound. What was he to do in order to make the burning cease? Astiar wasn't sure. He couldn't think that deeply, his mind was stuck at surface level. The dragon's antennae twitched, curling and remaining in a state of uncertainty. Astiar tested his limb's ability to hold his weight, lowering the injured limb back to the ground. Another whine, louder, when his body buckled a little. Astiar had five other legs to use, though, and so he was easily able to keep his leg raised and mostly keep his balance. His head lifted back to Aurum, staring at the lava that was still dribbling forth. Burning, he came to associate the strange glowing sludge with the feeling of pain.

Seeing the other rush forward again, the dragon was absolutely startled. Again he reared up, backpedaling away. He stumbled back onto all of his legs again. More screeches of submission came past his mandibles. His wings were buzzing louder now, panicked and frenzied. The burning was coming again, and claws were getting close to his front. Astiar backpedaled in a near stumble like mannerism. His legs struggled with the concept of backwards movement clearly. His bitten leg remained raised, giving the dragon a limping gait to his forced movements. When Aurum began speaking and shouting at him again, Astiar returned such with another surge of pathetic screeches of submission. This had worked before. His noises of yield had made shouting stop before. It was all he had to go off of in this situation, and so the learned behavior was exactly what the cicada continued to do. He almost stumbled over his lanky tail, having to use his burnt leg in order to keep himself upright. The cicada did not strike back, though. His kind did not fight. They were low on the food chain. Ants could fight, they were a good example of an insect that could perform self defense. Not Astiar, not his cicada-bound mindset. Having to use his injured leg warranted a shout of pain, again rearing and thrashing as if he had been bitten once again.

If he was supposed to take the hint for where he was supposed to go, the insect was not grasping it. The dragon's mind was split between hunger and fear. He was desperate. He was near starving. The energy that he had gained from eating the tree was being spent already. Astiar continued his shrieks of submission, continued to back away from the lava and swipes of the other's sharp claws. Spit dribbled from his mandibles; how hungry he was making it's unintentional physical appearance. Astiar did not know that he could use his tongue to swipe such away. Whines and shrieks of yield continued to nonsensically pour forth from his maw. The lava startled him more than the claws did. Burning, burning was pain, and pain was incentive. The bite wound was less important to Astiar when lava was present. A greater fear came from the lava, and it provided a much heavier incentive to continue shuffling messily backwards. The hint for him to retreat back to the Pitt was flying over his head. He was too worried about the immediate threat of the lava, eyes glued to the burning molten rock that continued to splatter near his feet and force him to continue backing up. Hunger was another incentive, to stay where food was and where the tree that he had already knocked down was. Pain was a higher incentive at the time, especially with the threat of more burns present. His noisy wings continued fretfully buzzing, added to the sheer noise that Astiar was making as he stumbled yet again.

TAGS 9/4/19:
we've got a fire that burns within, we are the dragon hearted



Re: and a partridge in a pear tree - treespasser - deimos - 12-02-2019

The two tropes that were attached to woods seemed to differ greatly. Many people worshiped them, at the least. Others found them suspiscious and creepy. Piers seemed to see neither in this case, his stroll having taken a turn. The scent of smoke- was it flesh? Piers had never smelled burning flesh- caught his attention. It was worrying, in the very least, if not.. haunting. His gaze turned and he approached the scene, and his knees immediately buckled and his tail lashed sharply.

The lava dripping from the angel. The burned dragon. Roy, off to one side. And then there was Piers, the child, the barely understanding and "prodigy" in the mind child. He was no prodigy, he was no god. He was a child. Simply no more then two months old, and thrown into such a situation, was the worst. His eyes were seared again, with the sight of fear and pain. Just like Crowley. He flinched backwards, stumbling away for the moment, back into the darker part of the woods. He couldn't yet understand what was happening between this.. giant creature and Aurum.

All he could bear to do was watch in silence.

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Re: and a partridge in a pear tree - treespasser - suvi. - 12-02-2019

[table][tr][td]
SUVI KIIRA NÍ FAOLÁIN
MEDIC / BETA
TAGS && INFO
[/td][td]
[div style="width: 360px; font-family: palatino; color: #c48d85; text-align: left; padding-top: 15px; padding-left: 10px"]T͏O̴G͠ETH͏ER̕ ÁT̴ ̸T̕H̶E ST͏ART̶ O͏F̀ ̵TI̡M͏E
Charred flesh.  Scent of smoke.  The sound of sizzling lava echoed in her mind; a memory of Suvi's, not Kiira's.  Fear.  The petite vixen never found the smell of fire to mean anything good.  With flattened ears, the medic scrambled towards the scene, paws skidding to a halt in surprise and horror.

The massive cicada bore the Pitt's scent but lacked a key component.  He seemed only capable of deafening buzzes in response to Aurum's vicious attacks.  Kiira's unmatched hues darkened.  "Aurum!" She had half a mind to slam herself into the lion.

"Aurum h-he doesn't un-understand you!" She slammed her paw angrily into the ground.  No one ever thinks before they raise their claws. "Li-listen to him for a-a moment." The bug hardly made any efforts for communication outside of body language.  No pleas in the common tongue.  Nothing.

Kiira strongly doubted it was by choice.  The cicada simply lacked the sentience.  Like the raptors of the Typhoon, he must possess some pack mentality towards the Pitt.  Maybe.  Regardless, she felt sick to her stomach.  She wanted nothing to do with the burning taste on her tongue.

"H-he's not e-even fighting back," she muttered.  B͡li̢n͘d ange̕r̨.͜
[/td][/tr][/table]
© MADI



Re: and a partridge in a pear tree - treespasser - arcy - 12-03-2019

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Crowley couldn't say he really .. got ... what had occurred with the Pitt. He'd heard offhand a lot of things, but it hadn't really hit him, and he hadn't really cared. It'd been early, then. He hadn't had anything tying him to the group, then. He'd seen history come and go, and it was horrible, certainly, but it was such .. a small scale thing, wasn't it? It was hard for someone who'd been around for millennium, witnessing the worst of humanity, to bring himself to care about something so .. small and impersonal.
Crowley isn't sure he's capable of being afraid of Aurum. That'd been burned out from him a while ago -- may it'd been when the lion had chased off the Dukes, coated in fire, yet turned around and simply worried. Maybe, Crowley just couldn't fathom the lion turning on him or any of the Tanglers. Even still, it's .. jarring. A casual show of blinded cruelty. Not unwarranted, but cruelty nonetheless.
It's not Crowley's place. The serval had heard the shouting and, well, he couldn't do anything, but he'd needed to check anyways. And here it is -- a Pittian and Aurum. Roy is cowering, Kiira is shouting, and Piers is .. hiding in the shadows. Crowley's ears fall back, and he stands there for a few moments, watching. Crowley may not be afraid, but it's still ... sickening, just a bit. Burnt flesh, lava -- he takes in a deep breath. It's dizzying, his head hurts and so does -- everything else.
He doesn't need to watch. He's not obligated to. Just because its Aurum, just because its .. dramatic, or whatever .. He can check on everyone later.
"Kiddo," Crowley can't do much in this situation, coward that he was. He's not even sure if he can tend to Roy. He hardly knew the tiger, despite his relation to Aurum, and he's not sure if he could break through whatever was going on there. Certainly, though, he could worry about Piers. The kid, from what he can tell, doesn't like being babied, and that's -- fine. Crowley can treat him like an adult, except for when he can't. The serval half-steps over Piers, lowering a wing to block his vision with a wing. It wouldn't block the scents or the sounds, but it was .. something. "There'ss no reason to watch. C'mon, let'ss go," He makes an ushering motion with the same wing he'd drawn down. Might have to keep the kid busy once they got back, since he's apparently taken this upon himself. At least until the memory was less fresh.
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Re: and a partridge in a pear tree - treespasser - wormwood. - 12-04-2019

i was born, on the highway, in a train wreck
with a heart, that was beating, out of my chest
Blind anger was honestly provabky the right term for what Aurum was feeling right now, especially since he was willfully making himself blind to the fact that Astiar was desperately chittering away in fear and pain, curling into itself and struggling to stand up with the wounds that had already been inflicted. All he could feel was a cold rage burning in his heart, remembering every day that he had gone without seeing his son's smiling face, without being able to greet him in the morning and share stories with him at night... a good part of Aurum just wanted to do the worst. He just wanted to charge forward and sink his teeth in, and crunch down until the life drained from Astiar's many eyes, similar to what he had done with Kydobi, however, just as Aurum stepped forward with his blood boiling, there was a shout that echoed through the air. It was the voice of Kiira, one that Aurum was fairly sure he had never heard shouting before in anything other than perhaps fear. The lion paused in his vicious assault, the flames on his body seeming to die down slightly, along with the lava ceasing to pour forth from his mouth. Turning his head to face Kiira, he noticed the disappointment and anguish in the girl's eyes, along with the desperation of her words. It took a moment for her shouting to truly click, but when it did, the angel turned back to Astiar, taking in the frightened and confused creature before him. It didn't immediately alleviate his anger, and a small part of him still wanted to just ignore her and go in for the kill, but... deep down, Aurum was still a good person. So, his shoulders slumped, the rage slowly seeming to leave his one showing blue eye. A slow and soft sigh left the lion before he glanced back again, frowning at what he saw.

Not only were Kiira and Roy there, but there was also Piers and Crowley, with Piers looking utterly stunned and frankly terrified by what was going on before his eyes. Crowley was making an effort to shield the child away from it all, and Aurum's ears pinned down to his head, a soft grunt of displeasure leaving his throat at the fact that he had caused that terror. Looking to Kiira, the lion hesitated before speaking softly, his wings slumping as the adrenaline drained from him, the large amount of power use beginning to drain his energy immediately, "...You're right. I know you're right. He can't understand me... I'll stop. I just... he took Roy. He took Roy." The words were added with pained emphasis, the lion desperately wanting to achieve vengeance for his son. Still, something told Aurum that Roy didn't want this. Didn't want his new father going crazy with rage, and killing in his name. Aurum just lowered his head a little bit, his claws slipping back in as he forced his muscles to relax, a strained breath leaving him. He glanced over at Astiar for a moment before he rumbled lowly, shaking his head "You're lucky that they were here, creature. If not... I don't know what I might've done to you." In truth, he did have some idea of what he would've done, but... it certainly wasn't pretty in any way, and he didn't want to traumatize anyone present any further.

Once he had calmed himself down somewhat, Aurum moved away from Astiar, padding slowly and tiredly over to where Roy was, sitting down and pulling his son in close. He had a protective air about him as he held Roy, the tiger tucked beneath his wing and tail as he eyed Astiar sharply. He then rumbled, his ears flattening down against his head briefly, "If I can't run him off, I don't know what we're supposed to do with him. He's still trespassing, and knocking down our trees. One tree may not be much, but if it turns into a habit, he'll just start deforesting our entire swamp." As he said this, his eye flicked over to Kiira expectantly, thinking perhaps that she would have some input. After all, she was the one that had stopped him from completely killing the huge cicada creature, and it wasn't as if Aurum had any idea how the hell to get him out of there. He knew how to deal with feral creatures, sure. In fact, he'd had close and amazing relationships with many of them, because of how sweet they had the capacity to be, but... this wasn't Draekon, or Ament, or any of the other feral beasts he had befriended. This was just some random Pittian beast, slamming around and tearing apart their territory because it was hungry.
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