UNDER THE SEA && exploring.

[miss ririchiyo]

MALE
15 M/O
CREAM FELINE
SNOWBOUND
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[member=1929]jikai ![/member]

Chat had told Adrien to stay in his brain, he wasn't allowed to come out again for fear the boy would be attacked. Everyone close to the two boys knew that Adrien was the weaker pillar, he couldn't fight. Still, he remembered dying in front of Jikai, his cuts spilt everywhere and his face beaten to no return. The hunters wanted a demon, and Chat was the perfect target. Even now, Chat glanced over his shoulder constantly, paranoid to Hell and back. He didn't have his enhanced senses anymore, he freaked out constantly because of it. But still, he continued his search for Jikai. Jikai, his long lost lover, whom he had imprinted on and bonded with. They were destined to be together, and Chat wasn't willing to give up.

The massive black panther slipped through the trees, frost on the tip of his nose from Snowbound.

[teef]

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the being in question, a demonic entity by all rights, had been lost to the one who searched for him at the time of death. there was nothing that could have been done. a previous and jealous ex-lover from a reincarnation and a lifetime ago had caught up, intent on turning jikai's moderately peaceful life into a traumatic turmoil of loss and torture.

jikai had been out accompanying his soul-bonded in hunting other demons of worse ilk than he. there had been misgivings that night, an argument between the lovers, one that had brought them into that hateful forest. the argument had been simple, something so plain that he wished not to remember. something so plain that had happened to be what ripped the two from their mooring as semi-human beings and flung them into more animalistic and primal bodies.

he remembered the moment that he had finally caught up to chat noir, taking his hand, or was it adrien's hand at the time? he had swung the shifter to face him, throwing his arms around his body in a tight lock, their mouths pressed together. maybe it had been some instinct that he had lunged for his lover, to feel his heart pounding against his. jikai knew that they were being hunted, that's what the argument was about. he knew in those seconds that something was going to happen, and he was terrified of it and was in the mind to protect his soul-bonded.

he had failed of course, watching an unnatural magick tear apart his lover in his very arms, their eyes locked even as chat noir was taken from him in a merciless and forceful way that could very well have left his soul shattered and broken. all of the witchling's power for nature had swept in on him and channeled itself through his grief, guilt and other strong emotions. it had exploded from him, uprooting the magick that had ripped into chat, the natural reformation of nature encouraging chat noir's body to reform in a shape that the natural world would accept and provide for more easily. the cost of this re-gifted life, took a reincarnation or two and a few years from the life expectancy of the one who had lost his control on his powers.

the ones who had hunted him were the wife of the husband he had taken the attentions of, as well as the husband. he had borne witness to his mate in that former life being flogged and killed by other gruesome means. those memories rose unbidden to mingle with the images of chat's death. after he had fallen, much too weak and trapped in a four legged form his hunters had taken him. there was unbridled rage in the way they beat and treated him, eventually throwing his corpse down a hill, leaving the once ethereal-looking hellhound for dead in a ditch.

he had crawled from the ditch, fighting off fever and infection as he traveled, finally finding safety and refuge in an old forest overlooked by a large plateau that was slowly degrading. here it was that he rested and healed, starting to gather in those in need of healing and recovering. this. this was his world now, where he could train his weak new body and finally get revenge for his late soul-bonded.

now he was in the slowly growing camp, curled up around a stone he had found a long time ago, eyes closed as he drew on the faded tendrils of his magick to find some memory of sunlit warmth in the stone in order to warm his paws. he laid by his den, thick black fur fluffed up against the wind that cut through the deciduous trees, his den pressed up against the tree with the widest spread of branches and needles, the dead detritus of the fall before offered a soft dry bed, something his aching bones required. today he lay in the direct rays of sunlight in order to soak up the warmth that could no longer reach him, sunlight glimmering off of his skeletal mask, his one eye looking out from its shadows, mind lost in his memories and old feelings.