05-11-2019, 10:24 AM
Nine months.
Nine months had passed from the moment he inserted himself within Tanglewood’s reclusive society. Nine months. That amount of time brought its fair share of pleasure and strife. He put his life on the line in numerous occasions, for the sake of saving comrade’s skin. He was compelled to witness a good few deaths of those he lived among, a number of them good friends, introducing him to the abominable pain of loss. Nine months conveyed romance, fury, anguish, strain, adventure, passion, triumph, dejection, and fear.
The notion of it made Leroy feel old - which was not the case, despite Beck and Crow’s shared belief surrounding him being a grandpa. The guardsman’s membership proved lengthier than the rest of the swamp dwellers; spare the current captain of the guard. Eugh. That meant that the generation of Tanglers he derived from was inching towards extinction. If only the fallen could see what their home had become.
To be completely honest, though, out of the entirety of his nine month-long service, the community has never felt more stale than it did now. People just weren’t that keen on interaction anymore. Damn millennials.
His form trudged down the road, weakened paws of gray stumbling along without purpose. Today was going to be exactly like yesterday, it seemed. The library ceased to provide entertainment, as storybooks fucking suck. The town was relatively dead, too, thus he figured heading on home to be most appropriate.
Just down the road, Leroy spotted her. The one who left behind a trail of discarded cigarettes wherever she went. The certain individual that his haunted jukebox displeased. No, their introduction to each other may not have occurred in the merriest nature, but surely they could get along on a monotonous day like this.
"Errr, hey?" the guardsman would call in a feeble attempt to nab Sam’s attention, tottery limbs switching from a saunter to a trot in speed as he approached. Hopefully, the doecat had yet to form any strong negative opinions about him; doing such was a common behaviour pattern in newer faces.
Nine months had passed from the moment he inserted himself within Tanglewood’s reclusive society. Nine months. That amount of time brought its fair share of pleasure and strife. He put his life on the line in numerous occasions, for the sake of saving comrade’s skin. He was compelled to witness a good few deaths of those he lived among, a number of them good friends, introducing him to the abominable pain of loss. Nine months conveyed romance, fury, anguish, strain, adventure, passion, triumph, dejection, and fear.
The notion of it made Leroy feel old - which was not the case, despite Beck and Crow’s shared belief surrounding him being a grandpa. The guardsman’s membership proved lengthier than the rest of the swamp dwellers; spare the current captain of the guard. Eugh. That meant that the generation of Tanglers he derived from was inching towards extinction. If only the fallen could see what their home had become.
To be completely honest, though, out of the entirety of his nine month-long service, the community has never felt more stale than it did now. People just weren’t that keen on interaction anymore. Damn millennials.
His form trudged down the road, weakened paws of gray stumbling along without purpose. Today was going to be exactly like yesterday, it seemed. The library ceased to provide entertainment, as storybooks fucking suck. The town was relatively dead, too, thus he figured heading on home to be most appropriate.
Just down the road, Leroy spotted her. The one who left behind a trail of discarded cigarettes wherever she went. The certain individual that his haunted jukebox displeased. No, their introduction to each other may not have occurred in the merriest nature, but surely they could get along on a monotonous day like this.
"Errr, hey?" the guardsman would call in a feeble attempt to nab Sam’s attention, tottery limbs switching from a saunter to a trot in speed as he approached. Hopefully, the doecat had yet to form any strong negative opinions about him; doing such was a common behaviour pattern in newer faces.