08-30-2018, 10:47 PM
MONROE
MALE — SUNHAVEN — SUNBEARER — HARD
-- to keep things in a good time frame all posts are retro to his visit to snowbound and his subsequent capture there.
Webbed paws had taken him to the border of an ally. A potential ally that they were still working out the possibility of having an alliance with. He had no idea that it would turn into something else, that the Pitt had taken over the group and was harming their members, scoring into their flesh and ripping into them. Holding them hostage in their very home and he had the unfortunate fate of actually meeting the one that had orchestrated it all. He had tried to escape, and try was used very strongly here for the male was much bigger than himself, a lion in size and built with more power and mass than he could over come. And once he was pinned he was pinned. There was nothing for him to do but be accepting of his fate and rather he died or not he wished that he had fought just that much harder. Even feeling the other creature's paws on him left him feeling disgusted and uncomfortable merely because of who the Pitt was and what they stood for. But it made no difference when he was dragged away to their home in some remote part of their desert.
Kicking and yelling he went though who would hear him out in the middle of nowhere. His pearl colored eyes holding venom and touched with fear as he was pushed down into a hole and forced to stay there as he was buried up to his neck in the hot sand. Try as he might he couldn't move, every shift of his limbs felt as if the earth was coming to swallow him and the fear became even more real when Stryker left him there alone. Panic settling into his gut and it caused him to scream and cry out for some semblance of help but none came. He baked, feeling his skin that needed to be moistened became drier and drier still as he was left for almost three days in the burning sun of the desert. His eyes had long since rolled back into his skull as visions of water swam across his gaze though they were nothing but mere mirages. The damage to his skin was so severe it opened up fissures in his thick skin, splits that showed the meat off like a prize oyster finally cracked open. There were many of them, across his back, his dorsal fin, tail, legs and even his neck and stomach had splits in his hide that bleed freely into the sand that he was buried in.
Starved and weak he barely even realized when the monster had come back and dug him out. Dragging his heat stricken form out of the sand, wounded and blood bruising around the edges of every gash on his body. The sand made him cough, gasping and gagging because of sudden movements twisting his stomach. He had no recollection of ever making it back to Sunhaven, the last thing he would ever remember was meeting the sudden cold embrace of water. But water much too cold after being in the heat for so long. It sent his body into shock, an over reaction to protect himself and his heart thudded in his ears, once, twice, and a squeezing stop. The form of the Goldenblood now laid upon the border, cold and drenched from head to fin and eyes partially closed. His rainbow like gaze stared at nothing and his cracked lips were slightly parted as if he may just start screaming again. Yet there was no movement, no sign of life within the male. But he wouldn't give up without a fight, that wasn't how Monroe operated.
Webbed paws had taken him to the border of an ally. A potential ally that they were still working out the possibility of having an alliance with. He had no idea that it would turn into something else, that the Pitt had taken over the group and was harming their members, scoring into their flesh and ripping into them. Holding them hostage in their very home and he had the unfortunate fate of actually meeting the one that had orchestrated it all. He had tried to escape, and try was used very strongly here for the male was much bigger than himself, a lion in size and built with more power and mass than he could over come. And once he was pinned he was pinned. There was nothing for him to do but be accepting of his fate and rather he died or not he wished that he had fought just that much harder. Even feeling the other creature's paws on him left him feeling disgusted and uncomfortable merely because of who the Pitt was and what they stood for. But it made no difference when he was dragged away to their home in some remote part of their desert.
Kicking and yelling he went though who would hear him out in the middle of nowhere. His pearl colored eyes holding venom and touched with fear as he was pushed down into a hole and forced to stay there as he was buried up to his neck in the hot sand. Try as he might he couldn't move, every shift of his limbs felt as if the earth was coming to swallow him and the fear became even more real when Stryker left him there alone. Panic settling into his gut and it caused him to scream and cry out for some semblance of help but none came. He baked, feeling his skin that needed to be moistened became drier and drier still as he was left for almost three days in the burning sun of the desert. His eyes had long since rolled back into his skull as visions of water swam across his gaze though they were nothing but mere mirages. The damage to his skin was so severe it opened up fissures in his thick skin, splits that showed the meat off like a prize oyster finally cracked open. There were many of them, across his back, his dorsal fin, tail, legs and even his neck and stomach had splits in his hide that bleed freely into the sand that he was buried in.
Starved and weak he barely even realized when the monster had come back and dug him out. Dragging his heat stricken form out of the sand, wounded and blood bruising around the edges of every gash on his body. The sand made him cough, gasping and gagging because of sudden movements twisting his stomach. He had no recollection of ever making it back to Sunhaven, the last thing he would ever remember was meeting the sudden cold embrace of water. But water much too cold after being in the heat for so long. It sent his body into shock, an over reaction to protect himself and his heart thudded in his ears, once, twice, and a squeezing stop. The form of the Goldenblood now laid upon the border, cold and drenched from head to fin and eyes partially closed. His rainbow like gaze stared at nothing and his cracked lips were slightly parted as if he may just start screaming again. Yet there was no movement, no sign of life within the male. But he wouldn't give up without a fight, that wasn't how Monroe operated.