[align=center]action — "speech" — thoughts
PHYSICALLY HARD | MENTALLY MEDIUM | MAGICALLY MEDIUM | ATTACK IN [b]#757f96[/b]
[div style="background: linear-gradient(to right, #464C5A, #757f96, #464C5A); width: 500px; height: 2px;"]The past seven months of Crow's life were a rollercoaster of events, emotions... things. Gods, how he wished he could start over again from the beginning. Then maybe none of the events that brought him to his current situation would have happened. He would be happy—they all would be happy—and that never stopped bothering him. It came in night visions of angry beasts and the sickening feeling when he opened his eyes in the morning and Ben could not. It was the scar across his lip and the way his heart raced at the snap of a limb in the distance. It was the necklace of string that rested among parched lavender at the bottom of the satchel he carried.
The silver feline felt Neville flutter nervously on his back, and he glanced up to see the deformed rodent that caught Selby's eye. He could sense his son's nervousness, and truly, he felt bad for leading them here. It was unfamiliar and scary and unpredictable. A swamp, with mutated residents? Genius, asshat. "Yeah, I'm sure..." Crow would say. "Everything will work out with time."
He was probably lying.
Crow sat, and gestured with his tail for his children to come closer. He was not going to let anything else happen to them, even if it cost him his life.
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