11-03-2018, 09:20 AM
[div style="margin: 0 auto; border-width:0; width: 70%; text-align: justify; line-height: 1.5; font-family: arial; font-size: 9pt;"]A quiet place. He needed to be somewhere he could think, let the words in his mind finally sound clear, break through the noise of an ambient environment. He was fine with the sensation of an abyss, sitting within a vacuum of sound, unable to hear a thing. It's strange to envy the deaf, not something he should ever look at and admire, and yet they had the whole world to themselves. The coyote remembers once reading Hamlet, an old but appreciated Shakespearean play. He remembers the famous monologue, the one that began with 'to be or not to be', parodied many times by those who understood and those who did not. It was a soliloquy pertaining to that of death, analysing the troubled condition of mortals. The protagonist - overwhelmed by destiny and emotions, duty and love - realised the calamity of their lives, the true reason why they all hesitated to end. Existentialism was something he had always found intriguing, allowing himself to embrace such philosophies because there was just enough of it to make him feel comfortable in his own skin. It hurt more to face possibilities than the inevitable, it was the after-death everyone was afraid of.
His favourite quote from Hamlet, however, wasn't even part of a soliloquy. No, but the words resonated deeply with him: "I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space... were it not that I have bad dreams." A world without sound, the golden silence. He wouldn't mind living within the realm of his mind, a place where there was control, a place where he understood. But no matter the world or universe, when there was a conscience there was suffering, a struggle, a pain. Perry closes his eyes, shuddering a breath as he finally enters the rainforest, humidity touching his pelt. The desert had been a pain to go through, a foolish decision on his part to think such a place would be a better choice to die. He didn't like the feeling of sand in his coat, shaking himself off before realising he was in unknown territory. It must have belonged to someone because there were clear signs of intelligent life, markings in trees almost menacing if it weren't for the fact that they were heart carvings with illegible, sharply printed names. His eyes squint, trying to make out the letters before immediately giving up.
This must have been the quiet place he was looking for, right? It was hard to differentiate one rumour from the next but if his memory served as an ally, then the rainforest and desert must have been a clear sign that the coyote had stumbled across the Rosebloods. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to come with an offering or not, noting to himself to stay still so not to look like a trespasser. Then again, he's half-expecting the sudden strike of claws against his back, or unluckiness to crash down on him. He wasn't even sure why he intended to join. It was easier, he convinced himself, to join a group. Even then, social interaction was stressful. It was easy to fumble over his words and, to his misfortune, he had a horrible stutter because his brain moved faster than his lips. It was easy for him to appear shy and afraid of others when, in reality, he was much braver than most. Perry sniffs at the air, sneezing from the exotic smells that lingered, eyeing carefully at the large insects which roamed around. The longer he stayed here, sheepish in appearance, the more the coyote began to realise just how dangerous this place was. It didn't even take him long to notice red ants on his paws, the male immediately jumping up and shaking them away, cursing in his head because he couldn't prepare a remedy for the itching and burning bites. Luckily for him, they weren't bull ants but the bite of a single fire ant hurt like a bitch.
His ears fold back against his skull, wincing at the pain, trying not to cry. The wheeze was enough to show that his body felt as if it was burning, it was like the canine had taken a million bullets from all sides. He didn't have anything for the pain, quickly moving from the area and glancing around for any plants he recognised. Although he could probably make a concoction to ease the pain, he knew that the bite would heal eventually and that there were no plants he was able to recognise immediately. For now, he'll have to wait for someone to come around and lead him away from the dreaded spot because he was too hesitant to enter any deeper into the Rosebloods.
His favourite quote from Hamlet, however, wasn't even part of a soliloquy. No, but the words resonated deeply with him: "I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space... were it not that I have bad dreams." A world without sound, the golden silence. He wouldn't mind living within the realm of his mind, a place where there was control, a place where he understood. But no matter the world or universe, when there was a conscience there was suffering, a struggle, a pain. Perry closes his eyes, shuddering a breath as he finally enters the rainforest, humidity touching his pelt. The desert had been a pain to go through, a foolish decision on his part to think such a place would be a better choice to die. He didn't like the feeling of sand in his coat, shaking himself off before realising he was in unknown territory. It must have belonged to someone because there were clear signs of intelligent life, markings in trees almost menacing if it weren't for the fact that they were heart carvings with illegible, sharply printed names. His eyes squint, trying to make out the letters before immediately giving up.
This must have been the quiet place he was looking for, right? It was hard to differentiate one rumour from the next but if his memory served as an ally, then the rainforest and desert must have been a clear sign that the coyote had stumbled across the Rosebloods. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to come with an offering or not, noting to himself to stay still so not to look like a trespasser. Then again, he's half-expecting the sudden strike of claws against his back, or unluckiness to crash down on him. He wasn't even sure why he intended to join. It was easier, he convinced himself, to join a group. Even then, social interaction was stressful. It was easy to fumble over his words and, to his misfortune, he had a horrible stutter because his brain moved faster than his lips. It was easy for him to appear shy and afraid of others when, in reality, he was much braver than most. Perry sniffs at the air, sneezing from the exotic smells that lingered, eyeing carefully at the large insects which roamed around. The longer he stayed here, sheepish in appearance, the more the coyote began to realise just how dangerous this place was. It didn't even take him long to notice red ants on his paws, the male immediately jumping up and shaking them away, cursing in his head because he couldn't prepare a remedy for the itching and burning bites. Luckily for him, they weren't bull ants but the bite of a single fire ant hurt like a bitch.
His ears fold back against his skull, wincing at the pain, trying not to cry. The wheeze was enough to show that his body felt as if it was burning, it was like the canine had taken a million bullets from all sides. He didn't have anything for the pain, quickly moving from the area and glancing around for any plants he recognised. Although he could probably make a concoction to ease the pain, he knew that the bite would heal eventually and that there were no plants he was able to recognise immediately. For now, he'll have to wait for someone to come around and lead him away from the dreaded spot because he was too hesitant to enter any deeper into the Rosebloods.