- Kamna, ki se obrača, se ne prime mah.

'A rolling stone gathers no moss'.

A constant speed entails a lack of traction. Nothing is picked up. Nothing is gained. Without stopping one’s trek, not even to smell the roses, the amount of information that one absorbs is nil.

And the deprivation of information is the first step in killing off one’s brain.

Ambition is the biggest offender when it comes to all the rolling stones that one passes on a day-to-day basis. Ambition. It is believed that if one were to solely follow their ambition, and not a thing else, they will be rewarded in the long run. In reality, this is anything but so; has he who lived their entire life around the promise of personal gain truly lived at all?

Another main factor commonly setting one in a rolling motion is fear. A deeper understanding of life is unattainable when one is constantly running in the opposite direction of an adversary of undesirable measures. Fear drives one away from not only what ails them, but from learning about what ails them.

Knowledge is the ultimate weapon, and when one on no occasion settles down, they are weak. And without a weapon, life’s unrelenting fury proves to be incredibly difficult to deal with.

-

Fear is what kept Tomislav on his feet. Fear is what kept Tomislav’s stone rolling, and his desperate scramble away from where he last dwelled prevented the male from gathering any moss. He remembered not what caused his last demise - only that it had been incredibly painful, called calamity to his peaceful habitat, and brought the same end to his friends. Out of not wishing to experience the same fate twice, the hulking male fled.

And he ran. And he ran out of the valley. And he ran past the mountains. And he ran as far as his legs allowed.

He, as a stone, had not only gathered no moss. He, as a stone, rolled too fast; stones that roll too fast begin to crumble, and some reach a point in which they break.

Tomislav collapsed just off the brink of civilization. His heart’s beat deteriorated to the point that it no longer followed a steady pace.

Before long, it had stopped altogether.

A faint cry barely left his lips.

"H... Help.."

Without blood reaching the brain, his conscience began to dwindle.

All became blurry, fuzzy, without a definite shape.

His eyelids went heavy, and began drooping over his chocolate hues.

The desire to sleep grew only stronger as time passed.

Finally, he succumbed.

Tomislav passed away a few footsteps inside the land that the Blackguard claimed as their own. His fresh cadaver would not be found before long.

To some, the lifeless form of the grizzly was a grim reminder of how fragile life was.

To most, though, his corpse was just a tasty meal waiting to be had.

Myhri typically didn't eat a lot of meat. Finding corpses of animals that may have been sentient at one time kinda freaked him out- because what if he ended up that way? Some douchebag vulture named Karen coming along, finding his dead body and picking his innards out. It gave him the fucking shivers. So padding about the territory, trying to find little places to grow herbs besides camp- because he was planning on making a tea blend for Indie- and coming across a bear carcass made him draw back a little back. He grimaced.

Purple eyes behind purple sunglasses glanced about, behind him towards camp, and to the skies, which is where he normally would find Akane or that new dude, he supposed. Myhri looked back towards the corpse of Tomislav, and sat down. He uttered beneath his breath, eyes closed. "Otsukaresama deshita." He then dipped his head, growing a small, white flower and placing it just before Tomislav's nose. Honest, it wasn't Myhri's favorite to bring back his language, or made up a funeral service for someone he really didn't know, if this was even a funeral.

But it was something, right?


Otsukaresama deshita - Thank you for your hard work

code by spacexual