05-14-2020, 12:25 AM
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Curiosity killed the cat was a common proverb all around the world, meant to warn one of the dangers that came with sticking their nose where it didn't belong. It seemed to have a simple enough message – don't chase after knowledge you don't have when it isn't needed, or it could kill you. Despite its simple meaning, the proverb still went ignored by many, including one Roan Ó Foaláin-Roux, who had been struck with a profound sense of curiosity recently. Not even so much curiosity, but rather, an itch. An itch that went deep beneath his fur and even beneath his skin, clinging to his very bones in a way that he just couldn't shake. Ever since the meteor had crashed into the waves near The Typhoon, Roan had not only had his family and his friends within his group on his mind, but also those outside of the Typhoon. He knew that at least Tanglewood had been affected by tremors, but what about Elysium, or... the Pitt? His mind lingered on the desert dwelling group for a moment, and he could feel the itch along his bones grow worse, and even more prominent. What if someone was hurt? What if his friend, Piers was hurt?
That mere thought alone was enough to push the draconic siamese from his bed, his heart beating frantically against his ribs like a bird in a cage. He could hear the soft sounds of his mother sleeping in the next room over, and he was silently glad that it was the middle of the night. He gingerly grabbed his medical bag in his teeth, slipping it on over his middle before he slinked out into the living room, giving the dark house one last glance over. He wouldn't be long. It would just be a visit, to make sure that everyone was alright. That wouldn't cause any panic, right? A heavy feeling of guilt had already settled somewhere in the middle of his chest, but Roan didn't let that stop him, pushing the door to his family's hut open and taking off into the night. He knew what he was doing didn't truly make sense. After all, the Typhoon and the Pitt were supposed to be enemies, but... he couldn't help it. The people there had been kind to him when he had run to them, and he had grown fond of Piers in his short time there, as crazy as that sounded. He could only hope that news of his visit didn't travel far, or he was sure he would get an earful when he returned home.
By the time the sage reached the border of the Pitt, it was nearing the morning, with the blazing Pittian sun just beginning to rise over the horizon. His wings were tired, and the feeling of guilt and nerves in his chest had only grown worse with every step he took, but he also couldn't help but feel happy. Or at the very least, glad to be there. He knew that if he remained at home, he simply would've ended up constantly fighting that itch inside, unable to help his own anxieties. This was far better. He would drop in, make sure everyone was alright, and then fly back home just in time for dinner. At least, that was the plan. Taking a deep breath, the apprentice took a few steps over the border, raising his muzzle to the sky before he called out experimentally, "Hello? Anybody here? Piers...?" The itch inside had now transformed into a pleasant hum of something akin to excitement, waiting to see if the other male would show up and be alright. Thoughts of the Typhoon and his family seemed, for now at least, a million miles away.
For after all, curiosity may have killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.
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Curiosity killed the cat was a common proverb all around the world, meant to warn one of the dangers that came with sticking their nose where it didn't belong. It seemed to have a simple enough message – don't chase after knowledge you don't have when it isn't needed, or it could kill you. Despite its simple meaning, the proverb still went ignored by many, including one Roan Ó Foaláin-Roux, who had been struck with a profound sense of curiosity recently. Not even so much curiosity, but rather, an itch. An itch that went deep beneath his fur and even beneath his skin, clinging to his very bones in a way that he just couldn't shake. Ever since the meteor had crashed into the waves near The Typhoon, Roan had not only had his family and his friends within his group on his mind, but also those outside of the Typhoon. He knew that at least Tanglewood had been affected by tremors, but what about Elysium, or... the Pitt? His mind lingered on the desert dwelling group for a moment, and he could feel the itch along his bones grow worse, and even more prominent. What if someone was hurt? What if his friend, Piers was hurt?
That mere thought alone was enough to push the draconic siamese from his bed, his heart beating frantically against his ribs like a bird in a cage. He could hear the soft sounds of his mother sleeping in the next room over, and he was silently glad that it was the middle of the night. He gingerly grabbed his medical bag in his teeth, slipping it on over his middle before he slinked out into the living room, giving the dark house one last glance over. He wouldn't be long. It would just be a visit, to make sure that everyone was alright. That wouldn't cause any panic, right? A heavy feeling of guilt had already settled somewhere in the middle of his chest, but Roan didn't let that stop him, pushing the door to his family's hut open and taking off into the night. He knew what he was doing didn't truly make sense. After all, the Typhoon and the Pitt were supposed to be enemies, but... he couldn't help it. The people there had been kind to him when he had run to them, and he had grown fond of Piers in his short time there, as crazy as that sounded. He could only hope that news of his visit didn't travel far, or he was sure he would get an earful when he returned home.
By the time the sage reached the border of the Pitt, it was nearing the morning, with the blazing Pittian sun just beginning to rise over the horizon. His wings were tired, and the feeling of guilt and nerves in his chest had only grown worse with every step he took, but he also couldn't help but feel happy. Or at the very least, glad to be there. He knew that if he remained at home, he simply would've ended up constantly fighting that itch inside, unable to help his own anxieties. This was far better. He would drop in, make sure everyone was alright, and then fly back home just in time for dinner. At least, that was the plan. Taking a deep breath, the apprentice took a few steps over the border, raising his muzzle to the sky before he called out experimentally, "Hello? Anybody here? Piers...?" The itch inside had now transformed into a pleasant hum of something akin to excitement, waiting to see if the other male would show up and be alright. Thoughts of the Typhoon and his family seemed, for now at least, a million miles away.
For after all, curiosity may have killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.
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