05-22-2021, 03:06 AM
[align=center][div style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 8pt; max-width: 65%; text-align: justify; line-height:120%"]A child.
Numerous, spread across churned field, open expanse cradling their innocence before it may be squandered here where crimson fell, greedy the land, tamed and accustomed, too many they. And here one, beaten down, rejected, from the fight expelled for understood such was no target. Part of his mind knew, registered the forward progression, the method of the madness that rose in a chaotic din.
Endless cycle. Violence begot violence. Voice caught, held in tight throat, ignored the looming threat dressed as supposed youth. Not his fight, his place never here, yet his own decree opposed supposed fact. Exhaustion slowed dwindling pace, mouth agape, each breath fire licking along his throat, chest alight in fanned embers.
For a brief moment, swathed in the darkness of closed eyes, he could pretend all was as it had once been, sugary sweet that moment.
Chest tightened, pressure against his back, into the soil pressed. Sputtering, coughing, trying to be rid of the dirt that painted the inside of his cheeks and tongue. No respite found, none allowed. A child the one that bore down upon him, taken by something he migut never understand, a predator assured his captured prey was within his mercy. Against did Harland try to push back, seek freedom, none would be achieved. Too large the other, even in a time of development miniscule made he, no cat but a mouse, teeth grinding together as words gathered on his tongue.
Silent he fell even as mouth opened, chin ground into the earth. Skin broke, silk beneath a cruel blade, crude those jagged tears. Frantic, wild motion, thoughtless in want. Paws struck out yet may never reach, position compromising, delicate vitals hidden, compromise found in inability to do anything. Still vain struggle continued even with the knowledge Solsken may not be dislodged with such motion, all it may do was partially quell the instinct to fight, breath quickened as paws reached and tried to drag him away from his tormentor.
Numerous, spread across churned field, open expanse cradling their innocence before it may be squandered here where crimson fell, greedy the land, tamed and accustomed, too many they. And here one, beaten down, rejected, from the fight expelled for understood such was no target. Part of his mind knew, registered the forward progression, the method of the madness that rose in a chaotic din.
Endless cycle. Violence begot violence. Voice caught, held in tight throat, ignored the looming threat dressed as supposed youth. Not his fight, his place never here, yet his own decree opposed supposed fact. Exhaustion slowed dwindling pace, mouth agape, each breath fire licking along his throat, chest alight in fanned embers.
For a brief moment, swathed in the darkness of closed eyes, he could pretend all was as it had once been, sugary sweet that moment.
Chest tightened, pressure against his back, into the soil pressed. Sputtering, coughing, trying to be rid of the dirt that painted the inside of his cheeks and tongue. No respite found, none allowed. A child the one that bore down upon him, taken by something he migut never understand, a predator assured his captured prey was within his mercy. Against did Harland try to push back, seek freedom, none would be achieved. Too large the other, even in a time of development miniscule made he, no cat but a mouse, teeth grinding together as words gathered on his tongue.
Silent he fell even as mouth opened, chin ground into the earth. Skin broke, silk beneath a cruel blade, crude those jagged tears. Frantic, wild motion, thoughtless in want. Paws struck out yet may never reach, position compromising, delicate vitals hidden, compromise found in inability to do anything. Still vain struggle continued even with the knowledge Solsken may not be dislodged with such motion, all it may do was partially quell the instinct to fight, breath quickened as paws reached and tried to drag him away from his tormentor.