bad tidings - open to tanglers; counter strike planning

[Grimm]

Harsh and irregular tempo, the ragged beat of drums, rot the blood within decaying veins. Peace and war. Ceaseless cycle turning upon itself, incapable the existence of one without the other to act as counterbalance, cruelty of reality wrought in taunt agreement and blood stained soil.

Prey had they become, raucous the victory exploited by forces cowardly within forward approach beneath covering that lulled occupants to slumber, at peace for beyond it all were they supposedly. Falsehood that proven with the dark gleam, pooled briefly crimson until greedy the earth in taking it, churned the ground even as the conflict had wound down. Relative his safety within upper story, beneath blankets tucked as though the horrors the world offered may be disregarded by such flimsy protection. Harsh his awakening when commotion had begun, ushered out back window, fleeting glance of gold seared into frantic thoughts.

For a time bright burnt his faith, secure in the knowledge one such as Aurum may not be bested with any ease, time allowing it to dwindle. Close did he dare to tread, seeking among the rabble faces familiar, those that crowded gleeful in such easy prey. And such did he become, forced to run even as claws cut into skin and he slowed with the passing minutes, unrestrained the tears freely flowing. Among them was he left, clinging with desperate hope to father, all he had left, the few conversations staged in the dark lost upon child.

Simple his own escape, secondary entrance well obscured within abandoned house, dense undergrowth offering protection beyond the ruined walls. Silent his approach, or would have been had not the heaviness of each step drawn forth various sounds, dried leaves and twigs cracking for singular his thoughts. "I want to help." Child still, upon the cusp training may be staged, apparent this with the excess weight and gentle markings along flanks. Yet steelen the eyes Saliva turned to each present in turn, last of them Aurum for he was the one most likely to have issue.

[table][tr][td]

[/td][td]

But I wish I could I could show you more of yourself, I wish I could make you somebody else but I left it way too late, are you stuck in your own ways? you only look at me properly now when you're drunk watching movies. where are you? what happened? I want what we had

[/td][/tr][/table]

code by Wisker

[wormwood.]

NOTHING BESIDE REMAINS — The approach of Kiira caused Aurum to turn towards the former healer, a slightly forced smile on his face. He could only hope that it would come off as reassuring, since he could tell that she wasn't doing well. Not that such a thing was much of a surprise – Kiira had never been much of fighter, which he couldn't exactly blame her for. Clearing his throat, Aurum then rumbled in a soft and calm voice, "Kiira... if you don't want to participate, I understand. We can just figure out somewhere safe for you to hide, and you can treat any wounds that end up happening..." He knew that Kiira had plenty of skills when it came to healing, and he didn't really want to risk her getting hurt. She could potentially use her teleportation, yes, but she didn't have as much teleportation as some others did – that was a huge risk, and he didn't want to risk her getting severe injuries. He doubted that anyone else there wanted Kiira to risk injuries too – Torren least of all, wherever he was at the moment.

Atticus spoke next, and Aurum could tell that he was nervous, but determined. The lion wanted to be able to take the pressure off of Atti's shoulders, but he also knew that he couldn't be the one to sneak out. He was far too large, and had already attracted too much attention. Sighing softly, the former proxy let his tail brush lightly against the feline's back, hoping he could provide some comfort as he muttered, "Thank you, Atticus... we're counting on you. And I've got the greatest faith in you, alright?" He offered his nephew a little smile, before looking up at the sound of more approaching pawsteps. The angel immediately tensed up when he saw it was Salvia, having remembered leaving the boy in the safest corner of the bunker that he could find. He quickly moved over to where his son was standing, one feathered wing reaching out to wrap around the other before he spoke, "Salvia... I know that you want to help, but I can't risk you getting hurt. You haven't had any proper training yet, and you're still so small... these people are dangerous. It's hard enough for me to let Atticus go and do this, I can't have you out there when all the fighting is going on. What if you and Kiira stayed together?" Perhaps if Salvia was a bit older, then Aurum would've been able to let him fight in some small capacity. However, the cub was still so young, and the lion didn't want any of the Coalition members setting a paw on his child. — OF THE MAN WHO WAS BORN AND DIED A KING.