I feel so special;; open - injury

[trojan g.]

[align=center][div style="bgcolor= black; max-width: 500px; font-family: Times New Roman;font-size:10pt;text-align:justify;"]Kids were tiring, and whoever said not was a dirty liar. Moth was exhausted from looking after her own kids at night, making sure they were ok, making sure that nothing bad would happen to them for as long as possible. The older the kids got the more she realized, too, that so many of her own kids were sick, and the more it caused worry in the female's heart. Had she done something wrong when she'd been pregnant? Had it been the kick to the stomach she'd received when she'd come back from the Pitt? Thoughts swirled in her head, the longer inside the longer they swirled.

So she'd step out into the swamp in an attempt to clear her head.

Eyes flicked around her as Moth went out in search of a place to sit, a place to think all to herself. It had been so long since she'd been able to do such a thing, and she missed it. It was dark now, so books were out of the question, but simply sitting? She could do that. She could sit and think and breathe in the smell of the swamp, listen to the sounds of nature. Or so she thought.

The squelch of mud, the heavy breathing of a large creature coming her way. Ears pricked and Moth's head shot up, trying to pinpoint the direction before she stood just a second too late to get completely out of the way. Used to the docile nature of the crocodiles in the past winter, she'd forgotten about them, and soon found herself face to face with a smaller one as it lunged towards her, grabbing and ripping into her shoulder before jaws opened and slammed down onto her ear.

And everything hurt.

[[this was rushed, but don't answer until [member=6881]aurum.[/member] posts]]

[wormwood.]

☆ HUNG PICTURES OF PATRON SAINTS UP ON MY WALL TO REMIND ME THAT I AM A FOOL. TELL ME WHERE I CAME FROM, WHAT I WILL ALWAYS BE: JUST A SPOILED LITTLE KID WHO WENT TO CATHOLIC SCHOOL —

Aurum liked to think that he and Moth had been doing pretty well individually as parents. The proxy had always known his sister to be a caring soul, and even with the sicknesses that seemed to ail her beloved little children, he was sure that she could weather the storm. Her and Selby, together. However, he had still made it a habit of his to visit her on occasion, checking in and seeing how she was doing with all the added stress being heaped upon her shoulders. He had been heading for her home on one of these trips when he noticed something strange. Despite it being fairly late, the scent of Moth was leading away from her home, rather than inwards. Frowning with worry, the lion changed course, moving away from the porch of the Moth and Selby family home and towards the swamp. She could've been out just to be on her own and think, of course, but he had grown more paranoid about her after the kidnapping incident. He couldn't have anybody coming back to try and take her again, snatched from her family and friends. Just the thought of it was enough to make him clench his jaw, his paw steps speeding up and the sound of his body rumbling through the trees producing loud thuds against wet ground.

Sure enough, when the angel ended up arriving to where Moth was, he was taken aback by the scent of blood. It was strong and all consuming, and it had him rushing over to her side, her smaller body collapsed against the wet ground. She had wounds on her shoulder and ear, and she was so thoroughly unconscious that it didn't even look as though she was breathing. So much so that Aurum didn't think she was. His heart clenched as he pressed his head into her fur, mumbling desperately to her unmoving body, "No... No, Moth, please... please, you've gotta be okay... you've gotta stick with me, okay? I'm gonna get you to Selby... please, wake up..." His voice cracked and shook with every word, and when there was no response from the body below him, he felt a sob rack his form. The all consuming feeling of dread that had formed in his chest was only growing larger, and more dangerous. Aurum began to lean down to grab his sister, tears streaming down his cheeks, only for a loud crack to interrupt his thoughts. His head snapped upwards, and he was face to face with the creature who had done this to his sister, the crocodile's maw still stained with her blood.

In that moment, there was clarity. The grief and anger that Aurum felt inside grew to a head as he saw the creature, a bubble bursting from deep inside of him. His form began to change, stretching and shifting into a creature of massive size and danger. He was a wyrm, nine feet in length, with charcoal black and fiery orange scales. Gone was the mane of fiery auburn, instead replaced with a mane of spines running around his neck, puffed and dangerous, sharp to the touch. Eyes ran up and down his sides, pupils dangerous slits in a sea of orange and red. Perhaps the most unnerving part of this new form was the mouth of the horrific creature. It was similar to that of a lamprey, circular in shape and full to the brim with horrible, razor sharp fangs. The creature – MAMA, it's mind provided – slithered forward across the earth, so large that it pressed against the trees nearby, making them creak and groan with protest. MAMA launched itself forward at the crocodile offender, its mouth grabbing onto the reptile and pulling it inwards. The crocodile snapped its jaws in a desperate attempt to break free, but it was too late for it now. MAMA let its mouth crush inwards, rows upon rows of teeth coming together to crush the crocodile down to nothing more than a faint memory before it was swallowed.

Once the attacker was gone, MAMA turned back to see Moth, still collapsed on the ground, now far below. Grief overtook the creature again, the wyrm tilting it's head back towards the sky and wailing. It wailed as loudly as it could, its call echoing outwards as tears began to run freely out of its many eyes.

( moth isn't dead, just unconscious and looks that way! + MAMA will not harm any Tanglewood members, but is unlikely to respond to anything in words as it is essentially feral + helpful MAMA ref by Blazic if you're having trouble imagining it )

[div style="text-align: right; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: 0px 0px 2px #1B1B2F; font-size: 24px;"][color=#44437F]— AURUM

#psychosocial.

[Atticus Roux]

The wavering wail met Atticus' ears, alerting the kitten. Knowing he should stay home, he did nothing at first but after aimlessly pacing for a few minutes, he made an executive decision to leave. After all, neither his father or mother were home. Plus, whatever urgency within the stranger's voice concerned him more than their wrath. With that in mind, he slipped through the door and into the swamp's forest.

His tiny paws raced across the grass towards the noise. The salty air caught his attention first, but he disregarded it. Little did he know, something was off. As he neared closer, a glimpse of crimson met his yellow gaze. His stomach turned. Danger was afoot. Yet he continued to rush in closer, only to discover a nightmare. Soon enough, the unconscious figure came into view.

"MOM!"

With his mother unconscious, a cry of help left Atticus. Impulsively, his pace quickened and tears began to flutter down his cheeks. Suddenly, he froze. Unbeknownst to him before, a mysterious figure towered over her. Their dark figure and spiny outline suspiciously lured in the area. Slitted orange eyes, despite lined in guilty tears, caused an unnerving chill to run down his spine. Knowing the danger ahead, he broke from his pause and moved towards Moth. He cowered near his mother's side, protectively puffing his fur up to appear larger. His razorblade-like claws unsheathed from their sockets, warning this thing to back away.

Not knowing the truth in the situation, her son was quick to blame. "YOU DID THIS!" came his ferocious yell. Atticus' ears pinned to the back of his head. His maw pulled backwards, exposing his minuscule teeth. "GO AWAY," he yowled. "BEFORE I-" In his bout of fury, he began to stutter.With every word, Atticus shook.  "-I HURT YOU!" Whatever they did to his mother, he didn't care if they expressed any grief (as he assumed that this thing was the culprit).

[alaric g.]

    Moonlit strolls were, for the most part, a common occurrence for Alaric. He partook in them often, as they provided ample opportunity to reflect and clear his mind of whatever he happened to be worrying about on that day. Not that he worried about much—seldom was it that he cared enough about an issue to put more thought to it than he believed was necessary. Today had been quite unremarkable, if he was being frank; there hadn't been much going on that was of any interest to the tabby, who was, honestly, somewhat nosy. There was always something going on, because it seemed that he was always in someone's business but his own. Not today, though.

    On this particular night, the tabby took it upon himself to venture back out into the swamp that he hated so much because of its noxious, putrid scent. He had been hoping to perhaps hunt down a midnight snack or two, but to his dismay, prey was making itself scarce. A sigh rolled past his lips as he settled down for a moment with the vain hope that maybe a piece of prey, stupid as they tended to be, would scuttle past his striped paws, so unaware of his presence that they would not offer the wide berth necessary to avoid their demise. This, however, did not happen.

    Despite its stink, Alaric had been able to develop an appreciation for the mire. A somber ambiance permeated throughout the swamp, fostering a tranquil atmosphere rivaled only by Tanglewood's shore. The only sounds that could be heard were the quiet gurgle of water and the chirping of the various insects that called the marsh their home. That was, until a not-so-distant howl pierced through the silence, startling Alaric and sending him stumbling to his paws.

    What the hell? the tabby would think to himself, his body pivoting to face the direction from which the sound emanated. Did he want to go investigate the source of the sound? Not particularly, as he was sure that the sound could only mean impending doom. He couldn't shake the thought that one of his clanmates might be in danger, though. Despite the nagging feeling in his gut, he decided to make his way over, skillfully and speedily navigating through the weald.

    Within time, Alaric came to arrive upon the scene. He certainly had not been expecting what he saw, though.

    A massive, serpent-like, spine-covered creature stood there, near a body that seemed to be injured based on the coppery smell of blood in the air. He could not make out exactly whose body it was just yet, but the creature seemed to be intensely despaired by whatever had happened judging by the fat tears running from the serpentine animal's many eyes. The... thing was not the only animal that had arrived, though; a kitten whose voice Alaric was unfamiliar with was shouting at the thing to go away. The tyke had referred to the body on the ground as mom, immediately narrowing down who it was to two possibilities: Moth or Aurum. This body was not big enough to be Aurum, so it had to have been Moth.

    As the tabby deduced Moth's identity, the kit began screaming at whatever this thing was to go away before he hurt it. This would have been amusing were it not for the fact that there was absolutely no way that the child would be able to fend it off, and yelling at it may have been akin to him begging for his own death.

    Another game of mental tug-of-war was occurring within Alaric's mind. He was not strong enough to protect the child either, but he was smart; if this creature was capable of reason, perhaps he would be able to talk it out of the violence caused by its despair or rage or whatever the thing was feeling.

    Emerging from the shadows, he would move to stand in front of the child protectively, directing his stare at MAMA's foremost eye. "I don't know what you are or why you are here," he started hesitantly, "but I'm sure neither of us want any more violence than necessary, hmm?" Fuck. Perhaps that wasn't the best thing to say, but what exactly are you supposed to say to a creature of this size and power?

♔ don't do love, don't do friends

[Ivan]

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— Бра́тья Карама́зовы

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Try as he might, Ivan could not summon up the memory of his birth. The effort was akin to one trying to reach through and claw away a thick swatch of cobwebs. For all his dramatics and glumness, typical of the second-born son of Selby and Moth, Ivan thought his inability to recall the experience was that it was so traumatizing that his brain had elected to ignore it and push it far back into the cotton of his mind. He wondered if it really could be that living as a rational being was one of the greatest feats on this earth, just because it was so hard.

He loved the feeling of grass under his paws, and the scent of his father, he loved all these little things in life, but he was often tempted by the idea that before birth he was probably the happiest and safest he had ever been.

Ivan tried not to think about it, because he was aware that he was standing on the precipice of a very dark place. Too much thinking could plunge him right over the edge and he wouldn't be able to drag himself up out of it. Ivan tried to be happy and grateful, but everywhere he turned he saw contradictions and hypocrisies. Some nights he could barely sleep because the memory of Alice's wheezing and coughing rattled in his skull like a woodpecker. Bad things shouldn't happen to good people.

He just never expected it to happen to his own mother.

Ivan was startled by the outrageous cacophony going on in the territory. Satellite-shaped ears swirled frantically as he attempted to pinpoint the source of chaos. He thought he was prepared to expect the worse, though he had never in his short life seen a dead or badly wounded body of a Tangler. He was not prepared for that body to be his mother's. Ivan had gotten a splinter or two in his pad, or accidentally ripped out a claw. There was that time he sliced his ear on a sharp portion of Caustic's fence. That was nothing.

The young black cat broke into a full gallop, feeling his heart sink lower into the pit of his stomach the closer he got. Blood roared in his ears, so loudly that even he could not hear himself think. Ivan slid to a stop next to his brother and Alaric, saw clearly his mother's unconscious form, and raised his gaze to see a complete abomination of a creature. He didn't know what he was looking at and it made all the blood in his body freeze. I DON'T BELIEVE IN THE SUPER NATURAL. I DON'T BELIEVE IN THE SUPERNATURAL. He didn't realize he was holding in his breath, an awfully bad habit he had nurtured since sneaking into Caustic's yard when he just could not handle a situation. He didn't even have time to register his own grief for his mother's pain.

"Mother of —" And like a snap, Ivan's body dropped to the floor like a deadweight, falling unconscious in a faint.

[ASVINI]

The wail.

That thing awoke her, made her eye snap open. Something, something tasteless bubbled in her throat as she shifted around, her eyes skipping about the room. No Aurum. No Mother. She stood, stepping outside of their home, before starting to run towards the source. There was a definite pace to her step, something was wrong. Asvini never felt this wrong, well, except for that time in the swamp where she got her paws wet- but she couldn't avoid it now. She swallowed her fears, sticking paws in mud as she continuing to run, her tigon body keeping pace up rather well.

However, when she made it on scene, her eyes widened. The blood, the people fainting, Moth, on the ground, and the huge, ugly wrym rearing its head. But, all above this all, bless Alaric, keeping his head rather level in the situation. Asvini bit down on her cheek, slowly stepping forward, her piebald body coming around the form of Ivan, stepping to the other side of the Wrym that, well, Alaric wasn't on. But she didn't move far from Ivan's body, just incase this did go south and Asvini needed to do something.

But her nose caught the smell of it before her eyes did- the smell of salt. Saltwater tears, blending in with the background of the swamp's complex scent pattern. And she inhaled, deeply, before stepping foreward and pressing her head up against MAMA's side, sitting there in silence.

For if you tame one, you can tame them all. - Socrates

"speech"

[glow=black,2,300]BREAK THE SILENCE; DAMN THE DARK[/glow]

[CAUSTIC.]

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DR. CAUSTIC

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TOXIC TRAPPER
MACKENZIE VALLEY WOLF
TANGLEWOOD
"Humanity. It's just a word."

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Blood fills his nose. He knows- it is a familiar scent, but it was rare out here. Most kills were clean and any that were out here was the fault of a hungry gator.
He pulls his paws away from the plants, samples in his sack. A little side project; plants were a lovely pastime to tend to.
He closes his sack, ears perking as wailing hits his ears. Something... dangerous. Caustic breaks into a run, heading towards the noise.
This was just part of his job now. Obligatory concern for others. He moves, the situation coming into sight, breathing heavily as his gaze lands on Ivan’s unconscious body and another child. Caustic focuses on the wyrm-like creature next, then back to the children. He moves, dashing to stand over them. The wolf leans over, keepi my the wyrm in his peripheral, poking Ivan’s unconscious form. ”Ivan?” Caustic can feel his fur raise, turning back to the wyrm and placing himself between it and the children.

“Stay behind me,” he commands to the two.

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Original code by lexasperated / artwork by @R_HillPrime

[simon]

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    No crying like this had ever fell upon his young ears. It scared him, shook him down to the very marrow of his bones until his ribcage tightened inward on itself, squeezing lungs as so all he could manage out were choppy and frantic breaths. A single scream flipped his day on its back, all normalities waggling legs helplessly in the air like an upside-down turtle. Mom and Dad weren't there, there was nobody but his siblings once scattered about the household with noses buried in miscellaneous hobbies.

    When Simon startled from his crayon scribblings of sunsets and islands, two brothers abandoned their pastime to dash out the door. "Wait--" he called, stopped by the distance already putting his meek voice outside earshot. Tufted ears pinned to his skull; a panicked glance scanned the now-lonely room, his paws tingling as his heart quickened. Atticus and Ivan could be headed straight for danger, but to follow would leave Alice and Winston exposed and vulnerable. Dad could save them, right? Or even Mom... but they weren't coming for any sort of rescue. Shaggy fur standing on end, the boy took a shuddering breath before oversized paws stumbled out the front door after his elder brothers.

    "Wait! Hold on!" sounded the breathless pleading as the tabby kitten forced numbed paws to speed up, thudding and crunching dully against the forest, "You don't know what's out there!" Several times he tripped over curving root or upright stone, gracelessly catching himself before his sprint could halt facefirst. A creeping sense of familiarity chased after him, soon keeping in time with his pace like a predator flanking prey. He skidded to a stop, his head turned to face it and green eyes flitting from nothing to even more nothing.

    Yet momentum did not halt with his feet and the ever-late brother collided into the toppled body of Ivan, sprawled on his side and dazed. Twitchily, he staggered to stand, head drooping as though he couldn't support it fully. His wandering gaze found the fright responsible for such chaos, a shiver rolling through his scrawny frame. A real live beast, snake-like and all-seeing, filling the sky and swallowing all light only to reflect it back at him through glinting scales. The familiarity seized him once more and all he could do was blankly stare, muscles tensing mindlessly as pupils stretched and as heat rose to his features. What bad timing for one of his "seashores".

[selby roux !]

[align=center][div style="width: 51%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: georgia;"]Ever since Beck had called him to take a day off to relax, Selby had taken up his beadwork again. Part of it was that the equipment was in his home now instead of tucked away in his father’s house; its easy access made the hobby more appealing. It was a hypnotic task, requiring not too much thought but a lot of concentration. The repetitive work was easy to establish a rhythm in, and once it was rhythmic, it was even easier to get lost in.

A sudden wail caused him to drop his work, amber beads falling off the metal wire and scattering across the floor. The sound was almost like a siren, and as he heard the door fly open and Simon call out before falling, he stood anxiously. “Boys?” he called, knowing that his male children were the rowdiest and most in danger. He poked his head out of the room, finding the door hanging open dejectedly and a now empty home. “BOYS!” he tried again, beginning to scurry outside to follow only to slip on abandoned crayons. He picked himself up, wincing as he replaced weight on his bad shoulder. Though not much time had been lost, his sons had gained a significant lead. “Motherfucker. Okay. Christ,” he muttered to himself as he carefully made his way out, now wary of wayward arts and crafts supplies. Just as he was about to close the door behind him, however, he snatched up his medical bag. Just in case.

It was not difficult to trace the source of the cries down. Adrenaline allowed his aching shoulder to fade into the background of his consciousness as he moved quickly towards it. A dragon. A snake? A creature took up much of his sight as he approached. His limbs tried to lock up in silent fear as he realized that it was the source of the noise, but a simple reminder that his family was at stake was all it took to stir himself back into action.

Re-examining the scene, he found his sons; Atticus in rebellion of the foul beast, Ivan crumpled on the ground, and Simon motionless in a familiar state of seizure. “Atticus,” he said shortly, in a tone that left no room for argument. “Come here with Simon. If he starts shaking, try to get him to lay down and keep him from hurting himself. Don’t hold him down.” It was unlikely that it would get to that, but better safe than sorry.

He came over to Ivan, relieved to find him uninjured. “Don’t let anything happen to him,” he said warningly to Caustic, paired with an uncharacteristic glare. Turning his head, yellow eyes widened as shock as bright red blood stained familiar orange fur. Selby stumbles over to her, quickly seizing her by the scruff to pull her away from the creature a bit before hastily getting to work healing her. Numbly, the sawbones noted that one of her ears was gone. He’d miss the way they pricked attentively when he spoke.

[trojan g.]

[align=center][div style="bgcolor= black; max-width: 500px; font-family: Times New Roman;font-size:10pt;text-align:justify;"]Pain and noise brought Moth back from her forceful slumber, though the appearance of what was happening before her caused panic, and she wished she hadn't woken up.

Wanting to move, she found herself being taken care of by Selby, and her nerves were calmed slightly. He was here, and he was taking care of her, which meant that they weren't in danger, right? Despite her having been attacked they weren't in danger because he had the time to take care of her. She'd continue telling herself this as she looked around once more, eyes widening upon the sight of her son in the beginning stages of seizure. "Simon," She'd choke out, attempting to get up to try and help before her leg went out beneath her, shoulder that had been wounded deciding to lock up and not let her move.

Eyes shifted once more and she saw Ivan, on the floor near her, body moved and near Simon's own. "What happened? Ivan?" A pained whine left the feline as thoughts rumbled through her head, thinking of what could have happened, though calmed once more as she noticed he was breathing and didn't seem injured. Atticus was okay, she saw that, but she didn't see any other of her children, and that worried her more. "Wh-wheres Alice and Winston?" She'd breathe out, eyes searching before she saw the serpent-like beast, and she froze.

The sound that had come from it had been something that she'd not noticed, drowned out by her own thoughts and adrenaline, but when she noticed it finally, the sound came to her ears at full blast, and she would wince. She didn't know this creature, yet it was wailing it what seemed to be sorrow, and she wasn't sure why.

"Who are you?" She would speak, looking towards those that were around her, watching how they acted, most on the defense just in case, though one stood out to her. "Asvini, do you know who this is?" She hurt, and she wanted to just lay there, but if they were still in danger, she wouldn't have time for that.