03-24-2020, 07:11 AM
[align=center]
IM JUST A SOUL WHOSE INTENTIONS ARE GOOD -
♕tags-powers♕
[OOC: ]
Something felt so wrong today. His eyes opened at the sound of a high pitch screech. Sounded like Astiar which was to be expected but there was this feeling of off. The feeling only amplified the moment he left the leader’s temple. Something was just wrong.
He was too familiar with death, he had had his dance with it. The cold embrace of it. He never wanted to go back, the darkness scared him. Too familiar to ever forget the stale and mildew scent that once hung from his own pelt. He would know from the moment he inhaled. It pricked his fur, like electricity coursing gently through his pelt. He felt uncomfortable. A Pittian had died and been dead for a little while. His body stiffened, he would have to see who.
Follow the smell, he guessed. With each step, his heart would lurch. Following his nose was taking him closer and closer to the hut his beloved son resided in. Surely not, he would tell himself. Surely not his own.
Because this thing seemed out of the question. Not even a possibility in his reality because he was so confident that he would see his children age and age and one day have families of their own. Yet with each step he felt impending doom. Like his life would change for worse. Because a parent knows. A parent just knows.
He would make his way in the hut and he would stop. A breath caught in his chest as his stomachs sank. The heart would skip a beat and sink through the floor, attempting to anchor whatever emotional storm about to occur. Meanwhile the mind was processing what was happening. Trying to understand what was before him, this situation that denied his reality. This isn’t real, this is a dream. This is a joke. This is a prank. This was everything but real and happening.
But it was.
A parent should never have to bury their own. Especially there first born. It was something that shattered your reality, it was against the laws of nature. The youth were supposed to surpass and be stronger than the elder, to carry a legacy and further enhance the name.
It hurt to lose anyone. But his children were his everything even if he wasn’t in contact with them. He always held a love for all of them. Especially for his first litter, they were so close to reaching adulthood. To reaching their primes, where he could witness them blossom and grow. To live lives of their own accord. Yet here laid his son. Cold. His blossom was snipped before it finished blooming.
His little son.
Finally he would breathe, not because he needed to. His lungs were screaming but his mind was. The earth would rumble as he began to move again. Perhaps if he woke his son, then he would see this was not happening. He would move to nudge the boy. His eyes swelling with boiling black tears because even if his mind didn’t accept it, his heart knew.
“Piers.”, he would softly say as he poked the young man’s cold shoulder with his nose, “get up son.” the shoulder fell back once he moved.
He would straighten up. Not turning to look at the people he knew were coming. His tail fell limp, for once resting on the floor as he closed his eyes and cried. There was nothing he could say, nothing he could do. He needed a moment to just breathe and yet he couldn’t catch his breath despite the air flowing in and out his lungs.
“Piers. Piers please get up. You’re scaring me. Get up.”, the world began to rumble around them. God this pain was worse than anything Aurum had done to him. This pain was worse than him lying there choking on his own blood. This was not temporary this was something deep and permanent.
He would nudge the body a little roughly with his paw, “Piers! Piers get up! Piers get up!” but he wasn’t moving because he was dead. But surely he wasn’t. Piers couldn’t die, he was only a boy. Young children died all the time but Kydobi’s were an exception.
Piers. Piers. Piers. His mind was screaming as tears began to fall. His face sleeked with black. There was a twisted grimace as he blinked through his tears. His baby. His sweet son. Instead of calling louder, he would pull them close. Sitting down to hold them. Hold them like he should’ve when they were here to feel it.
All he could smell was sickness and death. Once again efforts were wasted to a pitiful end. Digging his face in the fur of the boy, the rosettes mixing with his own chocolate. Kydobi was typically a silent type when crying. He was a veteran to emotional trauma and often held things in till he was alone. But this was a torture worse than anything he had endured.
A loud deep son intertwined with a roar would come from the jaguar as he cried over the limp body. He should’ve been there, why wasn’t he sleeping next to him? His son died alone?
Was Piers alone in the darkness too?
Like Kydobi had been?
He snarled, his mind nearly snapping at such an idea.
“My boy! My baby! My son! Piers! Piers come back don’t stay there. It’s a bad place it’s a cold nothing piers piers I’m sorry come back piers please.” his words would jumble together. As he softly rocked hoping that maybe if he warmed the body it would allow life to return.
Everything was violently shaking now, it was only a matter of time before the brute ignite. Smoke had begun to curl out his nose as blue flames gently dance in his eyes. In his current state he would most definitely forget to control the heat. Everyone around him was in danger.
“Piers! PIERS MY BABY COME BACK PIERS THERE IS MORE FOR YOU HERE COME BACK COME BACK I NEED YOU HERE COME BACK THERE IS A BETTER LIFE PLEASE MY LITTLE WARRIOR COME BACK YOU HAVENT EVEN BEGUN TO LIVE MY BOY MY SWEET BOY PLEASE!”, another sob as he begun to dig his curled hooks deep into the ground.
Why wasn’t he listening. Piers wasn’t dead he couldn’t be.
[sub][W]isker[/sub]
♕tags-powers♕
[OOC: ]
Something felt so wrong today. His eyes opened at the sound of a high pitch screech. Sounded like Astiar which was to be expected but there was this feeling of off. The feeling only amplified the moment he left the leader’s temple. Something was just wrong.
He was too familiar with death, he had had his dance with it. The cold embrace of it. He never wanted to go back, the darkness scared him. Too familiar to ever forget the stale and mildew scent that once hung from his own pelt. He would know from the moment he inhaled. It pricked his fur, like electricity coursing gently through his pelt. He felt uncomfortable. A Pittian had died and been dead for a little while. His body stiffened, he would have to see who.
Follow the smell, he guessed. With each step, his heart would lurch. Following his nose was taking him closer and closer to the hut his beloved son resided in. Surely not, he would tell himself. Surely not his own.
Because this thing seemed out of the question. Not even a possibility in his reality because he was so confident that he would see his children age and age and one day have families of their own. Yet with each step he felt impending doom. Like his life would change for worse. Because a parent knows. A parent just knows.
He would make his way in the hut and he would stop. A breath caught in his chest as his stomachs sank. The heart would skip a beat and sink through the floor, attempting to anchor whatever emotional storm about to occur. Meanwhile the mind was processing what was happening. Trying to understand what was before him, this situation that denied his reality. This isn’t real, this is a dream. This is a joke. This is a prank. This was everything but real and happening.
But it was.
A parent should never have to bury their own. Especially there first born. It was something that shattered your reality, it was against the laws of nature. The youth were supposed to surpass and be stronger than the elder, to carry a legacy and further enhance the name.
It hurt to lose anyone. But his children were his everything even if he wasn’t in contact with them. He always held a love for all of them. Especially for his first litter, they were so close to reaching adulthood. To reaching their primes, where he could witness them blossom and grow. To live lives of their own accord. Yet here laid his son. Cold. His blossom was snipped before it finished blooming.
His little son.
Finally he would breathe, not because he needed to. His lungs were screaming but his mind was. The earth would rumble as he began to move again. Perhaps if he woke his son, then he would see this was not happening. He would move to nudge the boy. His eyes swelling with boiling black tears because even if his mind didn’t accept it, his heart knew.
“Piers.”, he would softly say as he poked the young man’s cold shoulder with his nose, “get up son.” the shoulder fell back once he moved.
He would straighten up. Not turning to look at the people he knew were coming. His tail fell limp, for once resting on the floor as he closed his eyes and cried. There was nothing he could say, nothing he could do. He needed a moment to just breathe and yet he couldn’t catch his breath despite the air flowing in and out his lungs.
“Piers. Piers please get up. You’re scaring me. Get up.”, the world began to rumble around them. God this pain was worse than anything Aurum had done to him. This pain was worse than him lying there choking on his own blood. This was not temporary this was something deep and permanent.
He would nudge the body a little roughly with his paw, “Piers! Piers get up! Piers get up!” but he wasn’t moving because he was dead. But surely he wasn’t. Piers couldn’t die, he was only a boy. Young children died all the time but Kydobi’s were an exception.
Piers. Piers. Piers. His mind was screaming as tears began to fall. His face sleeked with black. There was a twisted grimace as he blinked through his tears. His baby. His sweet son. Instead of calling louder, he would pull them close. Sitting down to hold them. Hold them like he should’ve when they were here to feel it.
All he could smell was sickness and death. Once again efforts were wasted to a pitiful end. Digging his face in the fur of the boy, the rosettes mixing with his own chocolate. Kydobi was typically a silent type when crying. He was a veteran to emotional trauma and often held things in till he was alone. But this was a torture worse than anything he had endured.
A loud deep son intertwined with a roar would come from the jaguar as he cried over the limp body. He should’ve been there, why wasn’t he sleeping next to him? His son died alone?
Was Piers alone in the darkness too?
Like Kydobi had been?
He snarled, his mind nearly snapping at such an idea.
“My boy! My baby! My son! Piers! Piers come back don’t stay there. It’s a bad place it’s a cold nothing piers piers I’m sorry come back piers please.” his words would jumble together. As he softly rocked hoping that maybe if he warmed the body it would allow life to return.
Everything was violently shaking now, it was only a matter of time before the brute ignite. Smoke had begun to curl out his nose as blue flames gently dance in his eyes. In his current state he would most definitely forget to control the heat. Everyone around him was in danger.
“Piers! PIERS MY BABY COME BACK PIERS THERE IS MORE FOR YOU HERE COME BACK COME BACK I NEED YOU HERE COME BACK THERE IS A BETTER LIFE PLEASE MY LITTLE WARRIOR COME BACK YOU HAVENT EVEN BEGUN TO LIVE MY BOY MY SWEET BOY PLEASE!”, another sob as he begun to dig his curled hooks deep into the ground.
Why wasn’t he listening. Piers wasn’t dead he couldn’t be.