✯ — it just sucks to try and explain

the voices, the voices, they were too loud. he wasn't kept awake for simple reasons, no, he was constantly kept awake by voices to faces that he could no longer give names. there was something repetitive amongst them, a sense of wrongness that burdened his tired body, that kept his eyes wide open even when slumber tried to close them. tonight was no different, laying on the porch of his home, looking up at the swollen moon with a glazed over appearance to his eyes. blinking suddenly, he yawned and stretched out his forepaws, fur ruffling along his spine as an ear-bursting scream echoed in only his ears. none of the living could hear them, the voices of the dead were something he and select others could hear, and it was driving him insane - as it had for years before now. but the dead of the swamp had gravitated towards him, the souls with regrets and worries that they had not been able to assuage, they all came to him. the most haunting part had to be hearing how they died, on constant repeat. it wasn't something that he could easily just escape from, no, it had been haunting him for years.

head turned in the direction of where he'd heard the ghost's scream, tired eyes blinking at the watery outlines of ghosts, his body trembling as he laid his gaze on two kittens of roughly the same size, plants of marigold and dandelions at their paws. he laid there as if frozen before the wind blew and the mirages of the ghosts of his past disappeared like ripples in a pond. taking a deep and shaken breath, shaking his head as he looked up to the sky once again, admiring the setting of the moon and the sparkling of the stars as the moon began it's descent back below the horizon. getting to his paws then, surrounded by the serenade of the life of the swamp, he turned back inside of his house. here, the voices were just as loud but they calmed in just the slightest, allowing him the slow patience to find his satchel in his house amidst the un-lit shadows. there was an odd sense of finality in it, going around the dark house, around items left covered as if the owner was going away for a long time.

the sounds of gentle rummaging could be heard if they were listening, the tom searching for certain items within his home, knocking over a wooden crate filled with assorted items he would usually take for trade. this time though, his departure wasn't as menial a reason as trade, he had a place to go to, a home he had once lived in, the graves of people he had once loved. a life he had lived once, more or less. the ghosts wouldn't leave him alone, they were after him about a manner of things, but most importantly, about things they'd left undone, which reminded him of everything he'd left undone himself, strings untied, relationships not laid to rest, belongings not collected, prayers not spoken. collecting from his meager supply of dried foods, the tom would also grab his notebook and writing supplies before bringing them to his satchel. though his home was prepared for a long time away, he didn't bring all that much with him. now, he would leave his home as the sun began to kiss and caress the horizon, coming to stand on the porch with a weary expression. looking over all of the sleeping settlement, a fondness in his eyes.

stepping down from his porch, he would come to stand near the statues in the town. here, he would wait for the people who he knew would appear, to appear. this was an unannounced leave, he was headed back to the lands of the golden eye, to collect his forgotten belongings and forge, as well as to finally lay to rest the wandering memories and a lost heart of his own making. setting down his notebook, he would scrawl within it a note before walking it to his porch and laying it on the step under a rock; leaving it for those who wouldn't be awake to see him. it merely contained words that he would be away for an unspecified time, and said time would be spent in the land of his origins here. there, he would look to the brightening sky, flicking his tail as he looked around camp. should he head out now and let those from that land follow him? or should he wait?

✯ — MALE. TANGLE. MED DIFF. CAT. GRIM. LANGUAGE GUIDE. — ✯

✯ — it just sucks to try and explain

would sethiram remember the time he had left the golden eye? would he remember the agony that had wracked the few that had cared? he didn't want to make him go through that again. some part of him felt so wrong, to be departing from this land that he called home, even if only to lay to rest the missing and his memories oh so wicked of them. his mind was filled with dark thoughts and the voices were echoing in a heart-breaking serenade, mixed in the voices of his children and departed lover. shaking his head, so absorbed in his own mind before his fur ruffled as a voice made it's way through, sethiram making his appearance.

turning to him, he gave a soft smile to his son, coughing a few times as he regained the slipping composure he held, writing for him, 'home. i'm going back to the golden eye to say goodbye and get my things.' he would push it for him to see, tail curling up almost hopefully, 'do you want to come with me? i wouldn't turn down good company.', he blinked a few times as his name was called out by a familiar voice. swiveling his head as he took in cory's scent, a thrill running through his pelt. why did this feel like so long ago? why ... why did it feel like he was going to lose everything important if he left now? offering a small wave at cory, letting him approach, pushing the notebook in his direction, 'i'm not leaving forever. i just have some people i loved to put to rest. people ... that were really important once upon a time. one being my other son. you can come if you'd like, if you're not too busy here. i know you've been busy lately.', he smiled sheepishly at him with a flicker of pain coursing through him now. firefly's condition was worrisome. he didn't want to draw away the other he'd come to see as a friend away from the luminary when he was helping her. everything about this suddenly felt so tense, so alien. foreboding, perhaps? would ... would everyone be gone when he came back again?

✯ — MALE. TANGLE. MED DIFF. CAT. GRIM. LANGUAGE GUIDE. — ✯

✯ — it just sucks to try and explain

Words always felt so hollow, especially so on the days that he couldn't say them, which was most days. Wearily, a breath would escape the male, the softness in Cory's gaze catching him off guard. Why ... why was there softness there? Was he important to him? He'd gotten so used to his own existence being so extinguishable and easily forgotten about, that he never thought that somebody would actually come to miss him. It made him wonder if his disappearance would be felt by him, if he would greet him just as warmly when he came back.

Should he come back? What waited here for him? Uncertainty and sadness had bred in his chest, overwhelming him with the voices of the dead echoing in his head. He wasn't content with where he was. Shaking his head now, zoning back in from his wandering thoughts, he offered a placating smile. What was said in his silence? What was said in the words that he couldn't speak?

Jaws opening, as if to speak in return before closing again. He would follow him anywhere, except for now. What had he done to earn his loyalty and friendship? Closing his mouth and nodding, freezing as Cory came in closer. There, he felt his heart begin to beat an unusual tempo, his breath catching in his throat before it was over just as soon as it had been, a simple embrace scrambling all of his thoughts. He would allow himself the short joy of a hug, chasing a fleeting spark of a comfort he hadn’t known in quite some time. Then, it was over and the hug was over, reaching for his notebook with a shaken breath. 'I understand. There's always another time. Please look after yourself too. I shouldn't be too long, then I can help you look after her.' he would give him a warm smile then, tail slowly swishing side to side as he stood there.

✯ — MALE. TANGLE. MED DIFF. CAT. GRIM. LANGUAGE GUIDE. — ✯