09-18-2019, 07:05 PM
If one asked Hush where he had been for the last five months, then he wouldn't have been able to answer them. He had the briefest glimpses of memories, but they weren't from the last five months. He could remember being in... [Redacted group name, see announcement]? Perhaps that was the name, but he honestly couldn't figure it out anymore since so much time had passed. He could remember being Hushpaw, he could remember having friends, and he could even recall the face of someone he loved more than anything, Hyacinthpaw, but he couldn't remember how he had ended up here. Still, that didn't mean he was entirely helpless. Despite the fact that he couldn't quite parse out why he was heading towards the Typhoon, he still knew he was deep down inside. He was Hushsound, a brave warrior, known as the Hero of the Wild, a golden furred young male that wanted nothing more than to help others and to fulfill his destiny, whatever that destiny was. He still wasn't quite sure what he was meant to do, but he felt like he was prepared for it. After all, he wasn't just a little kid anymore.
However, this didn't suddenly mean that he was the most social person in the entire universe. Sure, he was still perfectly happy to interact with anybody who approached him, but it wouldn't be through words. Ever since he had been just a young kitten, he had almost never spoken out loud to others, instead choosing to either write what he wanted to say on the ground, or – in the worst case scenario of things where nobody knew how to read his words – miming when it was needed. Usually both of these methods worked well enough for him, and helped him cope with the crippling social anxiety that still plagued him. This anxiety was what was constantly reminding him that his hoarse and soft voice was awful to listen to, and that all he would end up doing if he spoke out loud was annoy others. If he had to write all of his thoughts instead of saying them, it meant that only the most important things came out of him, and he honestly preferred it that way, even if it sometimes ended up with others being concerned for him.
Moving over the land bridge that connected The Typhoon with everywhere else, the small feline made his way to where the large bell was, hesitating significantly when he came to the front of it. He didn't want to disturb everyone who lived in the group just so that someone could tend to him, but it also wasn't as if he was going to go and call for anybody. Taking a deep breath, the hero of the wild stood up on his hind paws, giving the bell a firm swing so that it clanged around, alerting anybody who was nearby, and probably also a few that weren't nearby. His ears pinned down to his head at the sharpness of the sound, falling back on his ass and sighing as he looked around. He shifted a bit as he waited for someone, not wanting to be sitting on the dagger sized sword that was in its sheathe at his side, attached to the belt he had snug around his waist. He didn't want to seem intimidating, but the weapon also warned that he wasn't just a cute fluffy kitten to be hunted.
However, this didn't suddenly mean that he was the most social person in the entire universe. Sure, he was still perfectly happy to interact with anybody who approached him, but it wouldn't be through words. Ever since he had been just a young kitten, he had almost never spoken out loud to others, instead choosing to either write what he wanted to say on the ground, or – in the worst case scenario of things where nobody knew how to read his words – miming when it was needed. Usually both of these methods worked well enough for him, and helped him cope with the crippling social anxiety that still plagued him. This anxiety was what was constantly reminding him that his hoarse and soft voice was awful to listen to, and that all he would end up doing if he spoke out loud was annoy others. If he had to write all of his thoughts instead of saying them, it meant that only the most important things came out of him, and he honestly preferred it that way, even if it sometimes ended up with others being concerned for him.
Moving over the land bridge that connected The Typhoon with everywhere else, the small feline made his way to where the large bell was, hesitating significantly when he came to the front of it. He didn't want to disturb everyone who lived in the group just so that someone could tend to him, but it also wasn't as if he was going to go and call for anybody. Taking a deep breath, the hero of the wild stood up on his hind paws, giving the bell a firm swing so that it clanged around, alerting anybody who was nearby, and probably also a few that weren't nearby. His ears pinned down to his head at the sharpness of the sound, falling back on his ass and sighing as he looked around. He shifted a bit as he waited for someone, not wanting to be sitting on the dagger sized sword that was in its sheathe at his side, attached to the belt he had snug around his waist. He didn't want to seem intimidating, but the weapon also warned that he wasn't just a cute fluffy kitten to be hunted.
[glow=black,2,300]LOVE IS NOT A VICTORY MARCH[/glow]
[glow=#245dce,2,300]❝ HIDING IN SHADOWS CAN YOU FIGHT YOUR DEMONS, ♡
29 months & marked by fate [glow=#3b6b5c,2,300]———— can you face yourself? ❞