almost : returning

[BUBONICPLAGUE]

[align=center][div style="width: 600px; padding: 10px; height: auto; overflow: auto;"][div style="width: 550px; padding: 0px; line-height: 13px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9pt;"]It had been... a considerable amount of time since he ventured away from the island. He had since convinced himself it was for the better. The Typhoon was in no need of a monster lurking among them, really only there so he had somewhere to come back to. It was a giant excuse, really; a reach, grasping for straws, so he had some reason to be close to others. After so long a life of loneliness, once he had tasted the sweet honey of having a home, it was hard to let go easily. He and Lirim had ended things, and they returned to the world they had roamed together before. There was no going back for Bub. He was stuck here now, and he could only dream of going home.

There was nowhere on this earth that felt like home to Bubonicplague, but the Typhoon at least had some semblance to it. It was good enough for him, and yet nothing would ever be good enough for the demon. In all honesty, he was unsure of what kept drawing him back to this place. It was a strange, insatiable urge, and so, he came back. By now, the volcano had decimated a large portion of the island. He knew from the smoke in the atmosphere long before he left that the place would be up in flames, but he had not expected to return so soon after the eruption. He breathed in the ash and exhaled a plume of smoke from his blackened lungs, sightless gaze kept on the black earth before him. The dying heat of the cooling lava warmed his decayed flesh. He almost wanted to step into the burning sludge and take a bath. He had always loved the heat, after all. It reminded him of the scorching pits of hell.

...Too edgy?

The demon curled his claws into the sand. He could hear others in the distance; Typhooners, he assumed, returning to their island after fleeing the volcano. Bubonicplague couldn't see the destruction, but his standards weren't particularly high. He could assume it was bad enough to need a considerable amount of rebuilding around the territory. His nose wrinkled slightly, and with a shake of his antlered head, the dire wolf turned and loped along the edge of the beach. Someone would come across him sooner or later. For now, he was content with listening to the waves lap at the shore.