11-29-2020, 05:40 PM
i was alone, falling free, trying my best not to forget.
He does not leave Hyaline. In fact, he hardly leaves Sochi’s side no matter how thin his ribs get or how cold the night grows. The fire in Pangea and the subsequent earthquake nearly pulled him from his perch, but he knows Breach will see to it. His tired eyes lift when Spirit approaches and clears his throat in case his father didn’t hear him walking closer.
“Intruders,” he says simply, and this, at last, is enough for him to rise from the wild grasses where he lies. His mouth is dry with thirst and his joints ache with each step, but the younger shifter maintains a patient pace until they reach the northerners and Breach. Risk’s mismatched eyes skim over them each with little interest, but Spirit allows his brows to furrow and his lips to dawn a slight frown. They have so few visitors, here in the mountains, but he finds this gathering to be an annoyance more than anything.
“I think they are lost,” Risk suggests in his rasping tone. He coughs, and the sound rattles through his chest liked shutters on a haunted house. It is clear he is nearing his end, soon, but death is only a minor obstacle for him, he’s learned. Still, when he opens his mouth to speak further, Spirit steps forward to keep him from wasting whatever precious energy he has left.
“You would, perhaps, not take kindly to easterners gathering in your kingdom. So why would you treat my home as your own private meeting place?” he asks with a tilt of his head. “It is presumptuous and rude, at best. And at worst, well..”
He lets the silence settle in after his words. Spirit knows the people of the north are only harmless fools, but he is driven to guard his family from even imagined threats.
“Intruders,” he says simply, and this, at last, is enough for him to rise from the wild grasses where he lies. His mouth is dry with thirst and his joints ache with each step, but the younger shifter maintains a patient pace until they reach the northerners and Breach. Risk’s mismatched eyes skim over them each with little interest, but Spirit allows his brows to furrow and his lips to dawn a slight frown. They have so few visitors, here in the mountains, but he finds this gathering to be an annoyance more than anything.
“I think they are lost,” Risk suggests in his rasping tone. He coughs, and the sound rattles through his chest liked shutters on a haunted house. It is clear he is nearing his end, soon, but death is only a minor obstacle for him, he’s learned. Still, when he opens his mouth to speak further, Spirit steps forward to keep him from wasting whatever precious energy he has left.
“You would, perhaps, not take kindly to easterners gathering in your kingdom. So why would you treat my home as your own private meeting place?” he asks with a tilt of his head. “It is presumptuous and rude, at best. And at worst, well..”
He lets the silence settle in after his words. Spirit knows the people of the north are only harmless fools, but he is driven to guard his family from even imagined threats.