01-15-2019, 03:36 AM
[align=center][div style="max-width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;letter-spacing:.1px"]Orpheus didn't carry hate well. Where Atropos saw a thunderstorm rolling from her heart, the sunny day suited him just fine. He felt quiet and calm most days, like blue skies and gentle clouds. Atropos wanted to see his attachments as a victory for her cause, and that was fine — but in reality they were his own victories, his own accomplishments. Learning how to care without running away was one of the first steps he'd taken towards letting himself heal. Now it was going to be torn from him. Everything was, however pessimistic that sounded. His biological parents fucked up on their own, throwing him to the wolves. His dad died, his friends died. Lovers died. The only part of his life that had been consistent in any way was himself.
Nothing here felt like it would stay forever either, though he tries to get himself accustomed to the idea of that. His explorations gave him time to think, to settle. Maybe he seems like the sort of person to desire contact, and he is, but solitude allows him some semblance of peace. His focus lies solely on the way the grass parts with every step, oddly harsh blades sometimes even reaching to scrape along his shoulders or under his chin. Still, it's peaceful. The tall grass fades the closer he gets to the treeline, and the harsh winds break into tinny, harmless whistles against the branches.
But the approaching cover also means that he misses the shadow overhead — just for a moment, though that's all it takes. Orpheus had always been perceptive. He had to be, leading a life such as his own. He's ducking as soon as he hears the whistling of wind through feathers. It's not enough to fully dodge Atropos, her claws slicing shallowly into the lion's black and berry striped back. Only a hiss betrays any sort of pain, his teeth gritting and nipping at his own tongue to choke down anything else. He's twisting quickly, paw reaching up to bat at a figure that's already out of reach. Vultures. A part of nature's cleanup crew, and if he's right with where his mind takes him in connection to the bird, that's fitting. Orpheus's soft growl carries through the air as he crouches defensively, long, tufted tail lashing behind him.
"You're a few years late," he calls back up at her. "Daddy taught me how to take care of myself." His wounds are already stinging, but the scars already on his back say he's experienced worse and the way he bares his teeth says try me.
Nothing here felt like it would stay forever either, though he tries to get himself accustomed to the idea of that. His explorations gave him time to think, to settle. Maybe he seems like the sort of person to desire contact, and he is, but solitude allows him some semblance of peace. His focus lies solely on the way the grass parts with every step, oddly harsh blades sometimes even reaching to scrape along his shoulders or under his chin. Still, it's peaceful. The tall grass fades the closer he gets to the treeline, and the harsh winds break into tinny, harmless whistles against the branches.
But the approaching cover also means that he misses the shadow overhead — just for a moment, though that's all it takes. Orpheus had always been perceptive. He had to be, leading a life such as his own. He's ducking as soon as he hears the whistling of wind through feathers. It's not enough to fully dodge Atropos, her claws slicing shallowly into the lion's black and berry striped back. Only a hiss betrays any sort of pain, his teeth gritting and nipping at his own tongue to choke down anything else. He's twisting quickly, paw reaching up to bat at a figure that's already out of reach. Vultures. A part of nature's cleanup crew, and if he's right with where his mind takes him in connection to the bird, that's fitting. Orpheus's soft growl carries through the air as he crouches defensively, long, tufted tail lashing behind him.
"You're a few years late," he calls back up at her. "Daddy taught me how to take care of myself." His wounds are already stinging, but the scars already on his back say he's experienced worse and the way he bares his teeth says try me.
[align=center][img width=300]https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/intermediary/f/c43c2c6d-b9e5-4952-a3d7-4db10fd90fe6/dcwzlwz-724bba54-d4ca-433b-ad25-a4a33df0b505.png/v1/fill/w_1175,h_680,strp/ded_lion_by_bluiestar_dcwzlwz-pre.png[/img]
I HAVE TROUBLES EVERY DAY BUT IT TURNS OUT FINE
[div style="font-size:8pt;line-height:1.2;font-family:arial;color:black;margin-top:-5px;margin-bottom:5px;"]｢ ❝ it turns out fine, and i fight to keep them all away ❞ | [color=black]biography – [color=black]tags ｣