Bit by Bit
Coran
Redrum's pawsteps were light as he ventured towards the lake, his senses alive with the promise of a relief from boredom. As he approached the water's edge, he stopped to test the air and make sure there wouldn’t be any foes lying in wait. Like a crocodile or a hippo. That would ruin his day.
He was relieved to find no trouble, so the boy pressed onwards. The lake stretched out before him like a living, breathing entity, its borders expanding to encompass a thriving wetland teeming with life. But as the seasons shifted and summer gave way to autumn, the lake underwent a transformation, its banks receding to reveal hidden treasures beneath the surface. Here, with the lowered waters, Redrum could sense the opportunity for a little hunting or the like, the promise of fish and tubers ripe for the taking. If he could catch them, or dig them up.
Redrum speaks in third person, known as illeism.
He deals with neurological issues from head trauma,
Causing disruptions in speech and movement,
Making him appear twitchy, with uncontrollable tics affecting every muscle.
Assume he isn't wearing his skull mask unless specified.
As Redrum approached the edge of the receded lake, his sharp gaze scanned the water's surface for any signs of movement. Initially, there was nothing but stillness. Then, just as his patience wavered, a sudden glimmer caught his attention – a fleeting glimpse of a fish darting beneath the surface.
Focused now, Redrum spotted a couple of fish lurking beneath a patch of duckweed, their shiny bodies barely visible. With deliberate care, he positioned himself for the perfect opportunity to strike.
However, amidst his quiet anticipation, a gentle voice interrupted the tranquility. It was subtle enough not to startle him, yet enough to draw his gaze sharply towards its source.
There stood an older man, engrossed in the task of skinning and gutting his recent catch. Redrum, knowing a good bit in the ways of a hunter, wasn't entirely surprised to see the task done. With a nod of acknowledgment, the boy greeted the stranger. "Hello- Yes. Redrum is- practicing fish-ing. Not great- at it." His words were offered cautiously but self assured.
Redrum speaks in third person, known as illeism.
He deals with neurological issues from head trauma,
Causing disruptions in speech and movement,
Making him appear twitchy, with uncontrollable tics affecting every muscle.
Assume he isn't wearing his skull mask unless specified.
Redrum observed the older man, Coran, as he deftly worked on his recent catch. There was a calm precision to Coran's movements, a familiarity born of experience. As Coran delicately separated the flesh from the meat, Redrum thought back to his mother’s lessons.
"That- is– why," Redrum began with a slight smile in acknowledgment of Coran's remark about fishing, his lips twitching as he let a spasm run its course before continuing. "Redrum needs– to practice." As the conversation unfolded, Redrum grew a bit wary of Coran's subtle attempt to discern his origins. Mother had told him before; in these lands, affiliations could carry weighty implications. Maybe not in those exact words, but same thing. “Redrum’s mother is– Queen of Insomnia.” Redrum replied vaguely, choosing not to reveal too much about his background, but dropping his own status in the process.
Suddenly, a spray of blood caught Redrum off guard, causing him to flinch instinctively– his paw sliding into the water haphazardly and spooking the fishes. "Ah." He raised a mucky pay, suppressing a chuckle at Coran's sudden sneeze that had surprised them both. And the fish.
Redrum speaks in third person, known as illeism.
He deals with neurological issues from head trauma,
Causing disruptions in speech and movement,
Making him appear twitchy, with uncontrollable tics affecting every muscle.
Assume he isn't wearing his skull mask unless specified.
"Thank– you, Coran," Redrum responded with genuine gratitude, his eyes reflecting appreciation for the offer of sharing the spoils of Coran's hunt. Despite the interruption to his own fishing endeavors, Redrum found himself touched by the gesture. He wasn’t actually used to being called a prince, though he had been once since birth.
With a nod of acknowledgment, he watched as Coran deftly continued his task, the rhythm of his movements steady and practiced. Redrum did admire the experience of the older male, and the light hearted interaction.
As Coran flipped the deer over and skillfully removed the hide, Redrum remained silent, allowing the hunter to focus on his work. Redrum decided then to abandon his fishing in favor of drawing closer to the marbled man, tall ears perking in curiosity.
Redrum speaks in third person, known as illeism.
He deals with neurological issues from head trauma,
Causing disruptions in speech and movement,
Making him appear twitchy, with uncontrollable tics affecting every muscle.
Assume he isn't wearing his skull mask unless specified.
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1. | Bit by Bit | Wolfpaw Lake | 01:46 PM, 03-22-2024 | 12:56 PM, 03-24-2024 |