12-05-2020, 06:33 PM
WHEN I WAS ONLY TWELVE YEARS OLD
MY PARENTS WENT WALKING
I HATE THOSE WICKED WORDS THEY'D SAY
To shun war, and all the terrible consequences derived from such unnecessary blood that fed the ravaged field, was to be alienated. Framed these shores adorned by snow laced grains by the war heralded by echoing drum beat, yet their plight was not unjust, cruel as the tyrant that clutched at their throats. To survive, live beyond mere existence, was to fight, but this was different.
Recovery done in stages, before the culmination of hunger arising, the throes quietened but still atmosphere heavy. Own his reasoning for how head hung, dragged silver hued tail behind, carved a groove in the sands he once deemed a place of amusement. Begun again the work of preparation, war forgotten for now as seized close to all land, adrift the child that knew nothing but the aftermath. Heavy the breath that proceeded halt, vision tracking the ever shifting edge of horizon where sky and ocean joined in turbulent matrimony, confusion alighting against soft visage as auburn point drew attention.
Common grown visitation, though particular the individuals who conducted such, and the influx of those seeking shelter stemmed as none wished to align with any for fear of outcome. Shaky the pace once more taken up, wheezing through parted mouth breath that quickened with his steps, left near impossible to take in even a small one when he stumbled to a stop before stranger. Away turned head, cough made with ears slicked back, tiny tabby left to address the other with a wince at the flare of pain encasing diaphragm.
"Who are you." Strained rasped voice, a harsh edge that would not be there if not for how he pushed after sickness only just concluded, devoid the eyes, slight the frown, a coupling that spoke not of interest. In truth Foam did not care for who the person was, knew how other encounters had ended and so met stranger with schooled neutrality, unbecoming on a child once so vibrant and bright, if prone to outbursts of violence towards supposed intruders.
Recovery done in stages, before the culmination of hunger arising, the throes quietened but still atmosphere heavy. Own his reasoning for how head hung, dragged silver hued tail behind, carved a groove in the sands he once deemed a place of amusement. Begun again the work of preparation, war forgotten for now as seized close to all land, adrift the child that knew nothing but the aftermath. Heavy the breath that proceeded halt, vision tracking the ever shifting edge of horizon where sky and ocean joined in turbulent matrimony, confusion alighting against soft visage as auburn point drew attention.
Common grown visitation, though particular the individuals who conducted such, and the influx of those seeking shelter stemmed as none wished to align with any for fear of outcome. Shaky the pace once more taken up, wheezing through parted mouth breath that quickened with his steps, left near impossible to take in even a small one when he stumbled to a stop before stranger. Away turned head, cough made with ears slicked back, tiny tabby left to address the other with a wince at the flare of pain encasing diaphragm.
"Who are you." Strained rasped voice, a harsh edge that would not be there if not for how he pushed after sickness only just concluded, devoid the eyes, slight the frown, a coupling that spoke not of interest. In truth Foam did not care for who the person was, knew how other encounters had ended and so met stranger with schooled neutrality, unbecoming on a child once so vibrant and bright, if prone to outbursts of violence towards supposed intruders.
code by Reggan