09-07-2016, 04:39 PM
BUT HOW COULD YOU KNOW THE SWEETEST SUFFERING
OF MOVING ON
OF MOVING ON
The silent refusal was a serrated knife stabbing and twisting into his heart, severing his artery. Beqanna watched him bleed in that moment of stupefaction. How had they been refused? His teeth clenched together and the muscles in his neck and shoulders twitched in aggravation. There was nothing to do except wait, but patience doesn’t come easily to most of them. How long must they bide their time until being granted sanctuary? How long must they brace against the wintery gusts that nip at their heels?
The descent was quiet and bitter. There was venom on his tongue and fire in his eyes, but Tiphon kept his lips pursed tightly shut before branching from the others. Their denial raises his hackles and so he spares the others from his anger by wandering off on his own, but he predicted it would be short-lived. They’ve only just congregated; it would be unwise to separate now.
Ashley finds him and they share a distressed and agitated glance. A huffing breath follows and Tiphon raises his head. ”How?” his voice is acidic, foreign to the calm demeanor that he usually adorns. ”How the hell do we get denied while they—“ his proud head jerks toward the mountain where he had seen his grandfather and the Tundra king clamber up as well as another small group, ”they get a refuge.” A snort trembles his nostrils as he inches to the side, rustling his wings in agitation.
The descent was quiet and bitter. There was venom on his tongue and fire in his eyes, but Tiphon kept his lips pursed tightly shut before branching from the others. Their denial raises his hackles and so he spares the others from his anger by wandering off on his own, but he predicted it would be short-lived. They’ve only just congregated; it would be unwise to separate now.
Ashley finds him and they share a distressed and agitated glance. A huffing breath follows and Tiphon raises his head. ”How?” his voice is acidic, foreign to the calm demeanor that he usually adorns. ”How the hell do we get denied while they—“ his proud head jerks toward the mountain where he had seen his grandfather and the Tundra king clamber up as well as another small group, ”they get a refuge.” A snort trembles his nostrils as he inches to the side, rustling his wings in agitation.
TIPHON
STARLACE AND INFECTION