HEARD FROM YOUR MOTHER, SHE DON'T RECOGNIZE YOU

[Seakit Roux.]

IF MY LIFE IS GOING

TO MEAN ANYTHING,

I HAVE TO LIVE IT

MYSELF.

tiguar . young . he/him
demigod of the deep

They say the apple doesn't fall from the tree, a statement that stands true for Seapaw and his mother. He'd always stuck to his mother's side like glue, always looked to her as a pillar in the always raging storm. Even when he'd fled, she'd welcomed him home with open arms, giving him something and someone to cling to. He'd learned to stand on his own paws with time but, always knew he could lean on her if he ever faltered. He'd always done his best to let her know the same goes for her, she could lean on him. They'd been through hell together, though he knew somewhere in his mind that it was nothing compared to the strife she faced in life. He'd never known the details of her life before him, never really pressed her to talk on it, but he knew for sure one thing; she was strong and always managed to get through it. It gave him hope, something to look forwards to.

When she had gifted him the feather earing that now adorned his ear, he'd cried then. It had been such a strong moment for him, another thing he could share with her. When she'd told him she would do his tattoo, he hadn't been able to wipe the excited grin off his face. A tattoo was one thing, having it done by your mother was another. He'd been planning it out for a while, sketch covered papers scattered on his floor. Sketches of fish, shells, waves, and beaches. Many ideas scribbled out, tossed to the side. Slowly a reoccurring theme began to emerge; of a boat, sometimes with flames and rising smoke. Small symbols sketched out at random, names scribbled under them.

Before him, a finalized design. It was sketchy, he was nowhere near the artist his mother was, but it was good enough. He knew she could tweak and fix it. At the bottom was a boat, resting on a thick and solid band. Coiling from the boat was a thick fire, marked by rough simplistic lines. From the fire came smoke, that turned in circles. certain parts had been erased, marked as 'backside of arm', showing that it was meant to wrap around. Within the smoke on the outer layer, the smoke began to make shapes. A deer's skull, with a large rack that faded to smoke as it went up, and a long sword that curved with the smoke. Above them all, as if escaping the smoke, was a large whale shark. The whale shark was only lined, unlike the rest of the smoke and symbols which had been filled in. The skull had 'sam' scribbled under it, the sword Elduin, and the whale shark 'Goldie'.

He was putting final details on when he heard a knock at his door. Grinning, he hopped up and traveled the short distance to the door, swinging it wide open. "Hi momma!" he greeted, his oversized tail thumping at the floor of his treehouse. He pressed his head against her chest for a moment, finding that a task that was getting harder with each passing day. He wasn't near done growing, but he definitely isn't the tiny cub with oversized paws he once was. He would bounce back, letting her in and beginning to gather the scraps of paper. "I think I've got a design down," he informed her excitedly, gesturing with his head towards the only paper that hadn't been scooped up, the one he'd been working on when she arrived.