08-31-2019, 10:08 PM
Wormwood had been quite concerned when he had first seen the reaction of Selby to his sister's death. Worm certainly couldn't blame him – he had mourned an innumerable number of days when Poetking had disappeared, and the other male hadn't even died, he had just abandoned Wormwood and everyone in Tanglewood. Still, it was incredibly unnerving to see the usual calm and kept together Selby reacting with such despair, not being even able to figure out what he should do next when he had come upon Pastel's body. Worm had admittedly reacted wrongly in the moment, blaming himself for the death of a girl he hadn't even known, when in reality it was the fault of that bastard Jervis, but he had regained his composure since then, and had even tried to help out when they had been figuring out where to bury Pastel. He had flown throughout the forest that surrounded Tanglewood's main swamp, searching all over for a suitable fruit tree that would fit the legacy the girl had. Eventually they had found one, and she had been buried carefully underneath it, and afterwards, Selby had vanished from everyone's views, save for maybe Crow.
In the two days since Selby had disappeared into his house to rest his distraught form, Worm had been subjected to his odd transformation into his current grotesque hellhound form, and he knew that not everybody knew it was him yet, so he was hesitant to approach many people without an explanation. However, it seemed as though approaching quickly was an urgent need, given what Selby was doing at the moment. The oddly colored canine had been passing by Selby's old home when he heard a commotion. The snapping of branches, and faint grunts and hisses of anger filled Worm's newly enlarged ears, and he frowned worriedly, moving over to where the medic was yanking urgently at the bush in his garden box as if it was what had killed his sister, rather than the bastard leader of The Pitt. Worm wouldn't have stopped him – after all, this could he a good catharsis for the male, as he clearly needed it – but he quickly saw the thorns and the blood, and immediately his frown deepened, worry driving him forward to where Selby was tearing both himself and the bush apart. Although at this point it seemed as if the bush was doing the most damage.
Leaning forward, the hellhound tried to carefully avoid the spiny branches near his face as he attempted to grab Selby by the scruff of his neck to pull him back and away from the plant, being especially careful with his newly sharpened teeth as not to hurt the younger male. He said gruffly as he tried to pull the male back and put him in front of the box rather than inside of it, hoping that he didn't sound too harsh with his newly raspy tone of voice, "Selby! Selby, knock it off, you're not doing anything now other than just hurting yourself. This isn't going to make anything better, you're just gonna end up another person to heal." He figured he would be straight and to the point, not wanting the smaller feline to lash out too horribly, although honestly he expected the worst. He was glad to see that Selby wasn't in a total state of lethargy right now, but this wasn't much better, since all it seemed to entail was ripping himself apart and sacrificing his own health over his grief, which Wormwood knew about very well. He was only just now beginning to recover from everything that had happened as of late, and he couldn't even begin to imagine the pain that Selby was in right now, but making himself bleed out wasn't going to bring Pastel back, no matter how hard he tried.
In the two days since Selby had disappeared into his house to rest his distraught form, Worm had been subjected to his odd transformation into his current grotesque hellhound form, and he knew that not everybody knew it was him yet, so he was hesitant to approach many people without an explanation. However, it seemed as though approaching quickly was an urgent need, given what Selby was doing at the moment. The oddly colored canine had been passing by Selby's old home when he heard a commotion. The snapping of branches, and faint grunts and hisses of anger filled Worm's newly enlarged ears, and he frowned worriedly, moving over to where the medic was yanking urgently at the bush in his garden box as if it was what had killed his sister, rather than the bastard leader of The Pitt. Worm wouldn't have stopped him – after all, this could he a good catharsis for the male, as he clearly needed it – but he quickly saw the thorns and the blood, and immediately his frown deepened, worry driving him forward to where Selby was tearing both himself and the bush apart. Although at this point it seemed as if the bush was doing the most damage.
Leaning forward, the hellhound tried to carefully avoid the spiny branches near his face as he attempted to grab Selby by the scruff of his neck to pull him back and away from the plant, being especially careful with his newly sharpened teeth as not to hurt the younger male. He said gruffly as he tried to pull the male back and put him in front of the box rather than inside of it, hoping that he didn't sound too harsh with his newly raspy tone of voice, "Selby! Selby, knock it off, you're not doing anything now other than just hurting yourself. This isn't going to make anything better, you're just gonna end up another person to heal." He figured he would be straight and to the point, not wanting the smaller feline to lash out too horribly, although honestly he expected the worst. He was glad to see that Selby wasn't in a total state of lethargy right now, but this wasn't much better, since all it seemed to entail was ripping himself apart and sacrificing his own health over his grief, which Wormwood knew about very well. He was only just now beginning to recover from everything that had happened as of late, and he couldn't even begin to imagine the pain that Selby was in right now, but making himself bleed out wasn't going to bring Pastel back, no matter how hard he tried.
[glow=black,2,300]YOUR CHANNEL IS UNREACHABLE[/glow]
— Reggan