07-22-2018, 06:38 PM
[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 55%; line-height:115%; text-align: justify;font-family: calibri;"]Mortality was a funny thing. No one started to question that they were mortal or immortal until it became something they were concerned with, until it was prevalent enough in their minds that it took over everything else until the only thing left was the idea of survival. Because death lurked around every corner, and one wrong step would lead to your downfall once you started to wonder about it. It was usually immortals and children who were exempt from having to think about their own death or the death of others, finding it trivial or simply not knowing about it.
It seemed that both of them were different than their counterparts, then. An immortal turned mortal, dying at the steps of the border that had taken in a child who already knew about death and survival, about what it meant to watch someone bleed out and be unable to stop it. That was the turn both of their lives had taken, and perhaps it was a cold shock to Felurian... but Myliu was used to it by now.
That was the sorry price of survival.
He couldn't bring himself to care much as he arrived upon the scene, summoned by the copper stench of blood spilling out onto the ground. What he found there was unexpected, although unsurprising, as he had arrived here in a similar state and had survived once the medics of the clan had patched him up as well as they could. The scars would amass along with the old ones, and he would continue to live, continue to make sure that he wouldn't end up dead in a ditch like this... woman was.
A soft, undecipherable grunt left the child as he walked over, far more graceful on feet that had grown in after his received care and were now mostly uninjured, leaving behind nothing but scars to mark his history. She would be the same, wouldn't she? She'd survive like he had, when someone would come and help her. Perhaps Gabriel? He seemed to be around during these kinds of situations. He had been for when Myliu had stumbled across the territory.
"Help?" it was the one word he had learned upon coming here, learning that it meant to aid people, to give them things they needed so they wouldn't die. She needed help... he just wasn't sure how to give it.
He'd always been the one to kill, not the one to save.
Another grunt left his throat, a low, worried growl starting up until he lied down a safe distance away from Felurian, chewing on his forearm in distress as he waited for someone to come and help.
It seemed that both of them were different than their counterparts, then. An immortal turned mortal, dying at the steps of the border that had taken in a child who already knew about death and survival, about what it meant to watch someone bleed out and be unable to stop it. That was the turn both of their lives had taken, and perhaps it was a cold shock to Felurian... but Myliu was used to it by now.
That was the sorry price of survival.
He couldn't bring himself to care much as he arrived upon the scene, summoned by the copper stench of blood spilling out onto the ground. What he found there was unexpected, although unsurprising, as he had arrived here in a similar state and had survived once the medics of the clan had patched him up as well as they could. The scars would amass along with the old ones, and he would continue to live, continue to make sure that he wouldn't end up dead in a ditch like this... woman was.
A soft, undecipherable grunt left the child as he walked over, far more graceful on feet that had grown in after his received care and were now mostly uninjured, leaving behind nothing but scars to mark his history. She would be the same, wouldn't she? She'd survive like he had, when someone would come and help her. Perhaps Gabriel? He seemed to be around during these kinds of situations. He had been for when Myliu had stumbled across the territory.
"Help?" it was the one word he had learned upon coming here, learning that it meant to aid people, to give them things they needed so they wouldn't die. She needed help... he just wasn't sure how to give it.
He'd always been the one to kill, not the one to save.
Another grunt left his throat, a low, worried growl starting up until he lied down a safe distance away from Felurian, chewing on his forearm in distress as he waited for someone to come and help.
♔ — I want brimstone in my garden