WHEN I BEHAVED TWENTY-FIVE / Open, Feral

[aesior]

EVERY GRIN WE SHARE IS LIKE.
"speech." . 'thoughts' . attack

the sound of one of the younger generation filtered through his ears and the pain, through the swelling of voices beginning to fill in the silence around him, wanting to scream at all of the ghosts around him to just shut up so he could focus. his ears swiveled quickly, searching for ares, ears flattening as he stared at the creature. could it imitate his groupmates? how long ... how long had it actually been in their territory? how long was it a threat to the group?

shaking his head, the cheetah looked over his shoulder at the beginning of his desperate race from camp, lungs and ribs protesting against his decision. he saw the beast chasing him and turned his head back around to avoid driving himself into a tree in the first leg of this. he faltered as he lost the sound of her feet chasing after him, ears laying back before all too suddenly, he'd let his guard down and he was being driven to the ground with blinding pain emanating from his back and spine. a scream of pain ripped from him before he clamped his jaws shut; he couldn't let anyone else hear him and try to come to the rescue. crumpling to the muddy ground, mud drenching him in it's cold wetness and clinging to his skin. gasping as he opened his jaws to try and breathe, trying to recover some modicum of strength that had been ripped away by the pain.

ears pressed to his head, struggling to breathe through the pain, whites of his eyes showing as his claws and paws scrabbled at the mud as the shock of the pain faded slowly, allowing him to see once again from the blinding pain. it tasted like blood in his mouth, huffing and panting, body shaking from the agony of nerves on fire, or so it felt. the sound of the beast skidding on the sodden terrain pierced his ears in all too loud of a sound, forcing his eyes to open, looking for the dark beast. laying in the mud, in great suffering and wondering if this was the end for him, he picked up on the rustling of undergrowth not far away. struggling, he began to draw his limbs to himself and push himself up from the dirt, each movement shaky and weak until he stood on his paws again, though mightily unsteady.

gods hep him, he wished that he wasn't the one who had gotten to the scene first. a cowardly thought, one that he hated, but he was tired, so tired. there was enough going on, he'd lost enough. could this be where he bowed out? could he even bow out? shaking his head, head pounding and ringing as he stared down at his paws and the mud below, mildly aware of the warm feeling of blood dripping from his nose. swaying on his paws, he tried to pull at all of his senses, to get them to coordinate. his hearing was all so suddenly lost from him, haziness in his eyes as he lifted his head to stare at ares, jaw agape, the taste of blood thick on his tongue. panting, the grim forced himself to take a step forward, towards her, his ears focused on her even as the ghosts screamed in his ears to run away, to escape. he wanted to escape, he wanted to run the other way with everyone else. running wasn't an option he had anymore, each and every movement rekindling the fury of pain raging along his spine, nearly paralyzing him. what was he going to do?

wheezing as he struggled, pain in each and everything he did, he was out of options. are you there, aristotle? do you still wait for me?, he found himself thinking as he struggled to keep himself upright, drawing his lips back to show his teeth in a silent growl, mindless of the blood dripping from his lips. shit. inhaling as much as he could, "so this is it? what a shitty ... shitty life.", he breathed, watching her for any signs of movement as he tried to build his energy and strength. could he land a blow back to her? running was out of the cards, his back was in too much agony. what could he do? frustration welled inside of him, body trembling, eyes watery with tears of pain. inhaling again, he exhaled, closing his eyes for a few seconds as he forced himself to draw upright, keeping himself going with the memories of the lives he'd cared for, of the folks in his group that he needed to protect. "... you ... i don't know you. but my children won't be safe if i can't keep you away.", he whispered, looking at the feral beast before him. "ares, sethiram, solsken, vintara. can't let you near them." he coughed, feeling the blood this time. huffing and panting as he unsheathed his claws, taking another trembling step towards her, his claws out in an attempt to keep himself rooted and upright, dragging his hind legs to move even as he cried from the agony. each movement screamed of agony, the tom drawing closer and closer before looking up at her, eyes dark with pain and foggy. he stood before what was likely to be his maker.

leaning forward, he would attempt to put his muzzle against her forearm, breathing hard with the effort. he knew this was incredibly stupid but the cry from earlier ... it didn't sound like mockery. it had sounded true. "child ... i know ... i know you're hurting. i don't know what hurts you, but ... i'm sorry." he whispered, blinking at the beast. if this was going to be his undoing, he wanted to die trying to help someone else. then his death wouldn't be useless. then his life would have been worth something. inhaling, he felt the rest of his strength ebb as his hind legs gave out on him and sent his lower half to the ground. gasping at the pain that re-ignited, gritting his teeth as he looked at the creature, "if you're from here, we can figure this out. it'll be okay.", he tried to offer to her as he tried to keep his front sitting up. shit, he was going to black out at this rate, the pain constantly keeping his vision blurry and beginning to feel numb all over.

A PRAYER COMMITTED TO THE SONG WE SING.
aesior opheles of tanglewood. -- grim - feline shifter.

credit @/teef