01-01-2017, 08:30 PM
Ruan
He could still smell traces of his blood as he stared in the direction of the horrific scene. In his mind, he saw every gory detail, felt ever rip and tear. Heard every scream. His screams. They'd shaken the leaves above, deep within the Forest, shattered the peace, if there had been any with that demon poisoning the earth with his presence. The trees had stood witness, as they always did, silently passing judgement. Would they have helped, had they been animated? Would they have defended their wolf?
His heart thumped painfully with the memory, and he tore his eyes away. With heavy steps, he passed over the place where the monster had torn his wings from his flesh and bone, only to attach them to himself with demented pleasure.
Ruan had become something else after that. Someone cold and distant. Wary, cautious.
His daughters had once warmed his sides, sheltered beneath pale, protective wings as they adjusted to their new lives with him. Now there was only a gaping lack. No children, no wings. Only violent, welted scars against a milky-white backdrop and dark purple spots.
A thump nearby withdrew him from his brooding. Bright eyes once again lit with magic turned toward the disturbance. He took a moment to analyze the different aromas, breathing deep and quiet. This forest always reminded him of the Valley and the forest there, where he'd run with the wolves. But this one lacked their scent; no pack lived here. Instead he only smelled the woods, the leaves, the small creatures that resided within. And deer.
The cervines typically kept away from the border, most especially to the Field with its constant array of travelers. He'd had no intention of going there today, but found himself haunting closer to investigate. The young one had just thrown herself into the open when he caught sight of her. He paused and watched as her little body froze. Even this brief glimpse at her behavior reminded him of Terra, his wild one. He'd found her in the forest as a wee little thing, and after finally gaining her trust he'd taken her home. He hadn't adopted a child since, hadn't even thought of it, but the memory of feral baby Terra and her similarities to this girl had him subconsciously rethinking that.
Come away, little one. You don't want out there.
He stayed beneath the canopy, sunlight randomly spilling through and igniting over his spine. His voice was low and steady, and glacial blue eyes studied her blankly. The Field was no place for a child; all manner of beasts roamed there. Some were taken by force on occasion, and he found he didn't much like the thought of it happening to her as he observed how she'd respond to him. He was a bit of a wolf in his way after all, wasn't he?
His heart thumped painfully with the memory, and he tore his eyes away. With heavy steps, he passed over the place where the monster had torn his wings from his flesh and bone, only to attach them to himself with demented pleasure.
Ruan had become something else after that. Someone cold and distant. Wary, cautious.
His daughters had once warmed his sides, sheltered beneath pale, protective wings as they adjusted to their new lives with him. Now there was only a gaping lack. No children, no wings. Only violent, welted scars against a milky-white backdrop and dark purple spots.
A thump nearby withdrew him from his brooding. Bright eyes once again lit with magic turned toward the disturbance. He took a moment to analyze the different aromas, breathing deep and quiet. This forest always reminded him of the Valley and the forest there, where he'd run with the wolves. But this one lacked their scent; no pack lived here. Instead he only smelled the woods, the leaves, the small creatures that resided within. And deer.
The cervines typically kept away from the border, most especially to the Field with its constant array of travelers. He'd had no intention of going there today, but found himself haunting closer to investigate. The young one had just thrown herself into the open when he caught sight of her. He paused and watched as her little body froze. Even this brief glimpse at her behavior reminded him of Terra, his wild one. He'd found her in the forest as a wee little thing, and after finally gaining her trust he'd taken her home. He hadn't adopted a child since, hadn't even thought of it, but the memory of feral baby Terra and her similarities to this girl had him subconsciously rethinking that.
Come away, little one. You don't want out there.
He stayed beneath the canopy, sunlight randomly spilling through and igniting over his spine. His voice was low and steady, and glacial blue eyes studied her blankly. The Field was no place for a child; all manner of beasts roamed there. Some were taken by force on occasion, and he found he didn't much like the thought of it happening to her as he observed how she'd respond to him. He was a bit of a wolf in his way after all, wasn't he?
