06-02-2018, 05:49 AM
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There's really just one thing that we have in common
NONE OF US WILL BE MISSED
[sub][W]isker[/sub]
NONE OF US WILL BE MISSED
Blood and gore did little to scare of the wolfing. Like many of the common youth blood was a welcome sight, a homage to the past of her upbringing or rather- backstory. Mother and father killed within the brutal lands of sand savages who's empire was built on children like whisper. She was brought in, raised under their tutelage, and had no real way of escape. She 'died' alone on the cusps of the camps, her body spat on for her cowardice. At least that was the story she would tell, the times when children like her were slaves of entertainments instead of equals. When her claws were slicked with blood and her teeth still clamped along the thrum of a erratic heart until the jugular stopped pulsing. Rattling, vibrating with uncontrolled indescribably emotion. It was made to excuse Whisper's unwillingness to talk about it, her interest or rather- disinterest in blood. Her unapologetic lack of morality that most pirates here already show. Something uncharacteristic for a child that seemed only five moons old.
The story wasn't a complete lie either. Bloodclan was brutal and war torn. She had learned quickly how to make powerful friends. Impressing adults and scarring other children with her seemingly dual-toned nature. It gave a reason for Whsiper's cynicism of justice, a fool's ideas of heroticism and villainy. Whsiper learned quickly how to gauge her own clanmates as well as her opponents, and learned the hard way when to run from both. Here in the typhoon, there was no savageness, there was no brutal awaking unless it was on the battlefield. They did not bring reminders to their homes, they did not make it a war simply to live. And that, was what made Whisper different from the other kids here, made her a sore thumb.
Whisper has lived the life of climbing the ladder. She has been the perfect soldier once and was mocked for it. She was broken down inch by inch until she was clutching the ground as it crumbled under her. She had committed herself to a home, a worthy place- a war-torn place and said 'you need me' and watched them laugh her off. Let them build her up and brake her down just as easily. It was not a physical scar, not anymore. But Whisper carried the same wariness to clan's and the power hungry still because of it. She would never again trust the powerful, was it irony then? Irony that she became powerful, that she became something in her own right. Without a clan she had madea name for herself. But that was a different lifetime. And whisper was... smaller now. Was she not?
She played into her own innocence. Bubbly bright and loud. Covering the cynicism but not attempting to hide it fully. The same puppy was walking towards the entrance of the camp, meaning to test the bounds of her and Argus' bond when she scented the alluring call of blood. She stopped her own smile, instead growing slightly concerned from where she could see- there were bodies over there, but none of them seemed to be clan mates. Was there a raid?
Her large ears twitched, wide crystal blue eyes impeccably wide as she watched the scene for a moment longer. Spotting iosef and Caesar both but no one else. Waiting a moment longer before she stepped out. Careful in making sure it was truly safe for her.
As soon as she deemed it safe for herself, she was back to normal. Bouncing over with a large grin on her expression. Four eyes watching the scene widely, taking in the blood the gore the bodies in stride as she stepped up to the larger Siberian tiger- stopping short a foot in front of him, pausing only to give the illusion of silently asking before she stepped into one of the bodies. ❝Welcome back then Iosef!❞
She tilted her head up towards him, revealing finely pointed puppy teeth at the other as she pulled a paw back from the own mess she stepped into. ❝Don't listen to Caesar. He's always a grump. Being a pirate is all about taking trophies from your kills. Right?❝ She nodded towards the tiger's toy. Still smileing.
The story wasn't a complete lie either. Bloodclan was brutal and war torn. She had learned quickly how to make powerful friends. Impressing adults and scarring other children with her seemingly dual-toned nature. It gave a reason for Whsiper's cynicism of justice, a fool's ideas of heroticism and villainy. Whsiper learned quickly how to gauge her own clanmates as well as her opponents, and learned the hard way when to run from both. Here in the typhoon, there was no savageness, there was no brutal awaking unless it was on the battlefield. They did not bring reminders to their homes, they did not make it a war simply to live. And that, was what made Whisper different from the other kids here, made her a sore thumb.
Whisper has lived the life of climbing the ladder. She has been the perfect soldier once and was mocked for it. She was broken down inch by inch until she was clutching the ground as it crumbled under her. She had committed herself to a home, a worthy place- a war-torn place and said 'you need me' and watched them laugh her off. Let them build her up and brake her down just as easily. It was not a physical scar, not anymore. But Whisper carried the same wariness to clan's and the power hungry still because of it. She would never again trust the powerful, was it irony then? Irony that she became powerful, that she became something in her own right. Without a clan she had madea name for herself. But that was a different lifetime. And whisper was... smaller now. Was she not?
She played into her own innocence. Bubbly bright and loud. Covering the cynicism but not attempting to hide it fully. The same puppy was walking towards the entrance of the camp, meaning to test the bounds of her and Argus' bond when she scented the alluring call of blood. She stopped her own smile, instead growing slightly concerned from where she could see- there were bodies over there, but none of them seemed to be clan mates. Was there a raid?
Her large ears twitched, wide crystal blue eyes impeccably wide as she watched the scene for a moment longer. Spotting iosef and Caesar both but no one else. Waiting a moment longer before she stepped out. Careful in making sure it was truly safe for her.
As soon as she deemed it safe for herself, she was back to normal. Bouncing over with a large grin on her expression. Four eyes watching the scene widely, taking in the blood the gore the bodies in stride as she stepped up to the larger Siberian tiger- stopping short a foot in front of him, pausing only to give the illusion of silently asking before she stepped into one of the bodies. ❝Welcome back then Iosef!❞
She tilted her head up towards him, revealing finely pointed puppy teeth at the other as she pulled a paw back from the own mess she stepped into. ❝Don't listen to Caesar. He's always a grump. Being a pirate is all about taking trophies from your kills. Right?❝ She nodded towards the tiger's toy. Still smileing.