05-24-2021, 08:44 PM
i was alone, falling free, trying my best not to forget.
He has lost all or what little he has held precious in this world, he supposes. Maybe his father was right when he said something in their blood was simply cursed. Maybe they were each just born under a bad moon. He doesn’t allow himself to dwell on these theories, lest they spin him into some infinite sorrow as they had for Risk. So he leaves the collected corpses of his dear family and he travels to the forest.
Outside of Hyaline, no one knows his name or his story and he likes to keep it that way. Really, no one in Hyaline knows these either, but he won’t take the gamble. He can rest assured that he is simply some handsome stranger here between the old towering trees. Spirit comes to rest his shoulder against the gnarled bark of a middle-aged maple as he observes those around him. Some are newborn children who have not grown into their legs while others seem to be parents fussing over their firstborns.
Before he knows it, a smile makes its way across his lips and he remembers Sochi teaching him to pounce as a child. He’d bundled his small legs under him and hardly covered much ground at all. Still, she told him he was a remarkable hunter and spoiled him with the best morsels of her kills. Then Breach was born and he thought they would never be apart, two little cubs gnawing each other’s ears and giving their father all kinds of new fears.
These memories should fill him with a sharp knife of agony that twists between his ribs, but he can only laugh.
Outside of Hyaline, no one knows his name or his story and he likes to keep it that way. Really, no one in Hyaline knows these either, but he won’t take the gamble. He can rest assured that he is simply some handsome stranger here between the old towering trees. Spirit comes to rest his shoulder against the gnarled bark of a middle-aged maple as he observes those around him. Some are newborn children who have not grown into their legs while others seem to be parents fussing over their firstborns.
Before he knows it, a smile makes its way across his lips and he remembers Sochi teaching him to pounce as a child. He’d bundled his small legs under him and hardly covered much ground at all. Still, she told him he was a remarkable hunter and spoiled him with the best morsels of her kills. Then Breach was born and he thought they would never be apart, two little cubs gnawing each other’s ears and giving their father all kinds of new fears.
These memories should fill him with a sharp knife of agony that twists between his ribs, but he can only laugh.