Blood, rain, and tears
07-01-2018, 05:03 PM
Thunder struck before the Tyrant did. The laughter died in his mother's throat, her tail stilled from how it had been waving to-and-fro above his head, keeping him partly dry from the sudden and unexpected storm that had caught them outside of their den. His mother had turned it into a game, they had danced from tree shade to tree shade, all the while he matched his tiny pace to hers, as he kept himself between her legs, under part of her body and tail as she sheltered him from the rain. There was no game in her now, none of the laughter and joy he knew was a part of her. He didn't see the eyes that had brought on her sudden stillness, how they reflected in the lightning that tore through the sky, a stark difference to the dull browns of the forest behind him. He didn't understand what passed between these two wolves, when the owner of the eyes stepped forward and into his view. The pup leaned against his mother's leg, feeling a strange sense of uncertainty crawl cold fingers up his spine. He understood when the wolf spoke, but not the undertone or meaning of his words when he said "You've run out of world to hide in, dear, sweet sunshine." He called his mother by her name then, this stranger who had no business knowing her. His mother nudged him with her back paw, her voice terse and hard when she said "Run, my little dusk. Run now." Her pet name for him didn't have the warmth it had always had until now, and he froze, confused. "Move!" His mother barked, and the familiar, commanding tones of her voice jolted him into action. Like the time she barked at him not to play with the yellow, funny looking thing that had fallen from the trees. It smelled sweet, but when his mother had showed him cautiously of the bitty little insects that guarded it, he had understood her warning. He didn't understand it now, but he obeyed. Tearing blindly through the woods, tripping more than occasionally but always finding his balance. The limbs of barren trees tore at his coat, but on he ran. Blind panic crawling up from his belly spurred him on, until his little limbs collapsed beneath him, and he crawled beneath the foliage under a large tree, shaking, cold, scared, as he waited for his mother to come to him, and patiently explain why he couldn't have stayed. This wasn't a story of comfort and love, but the beginning of his tragedy. It was safe to say his mother never came. The young pup stayed there for a long time, until shivers wracked his wet body and he cried out for his mother. It was a while yet before he took it upon himself to do the finding. With the harsh rain washing away the scents for what a young and untrained nose would never have had a chance to follow, there was no other answer but luck, for how the miserable youngster would find his way back to the body of his mother. At first, he would not understand the twisted shape of her. Struggling to see beneath the beating of the heavy rain, he would hesitate before approaching. Even to his young senses he could see that something wasn't right here. This wasn't how it was meant to be. His mother was supposed to have returned to him by now, cheerful and full of life as she had always been, nuzzling him and calling him her little dusk, telling him he was silly for worrying. No, this wasn't right, and there was something bitter in the air. It fouled the taste of rainwater as it fell into his open and panting mouth. Riveting between his fangs and pooling on the base of his tongue, until he coughed and wretched. It was no easy feat to approach her, tail tucked between his leg, head lowered almost to the ground, shoulders hunched and miserable. He crawled towards her like this, whimpering a soft gasping noise between coughs. "Mumma?" He whispered, the word bouncing between his teeth until it came out warped and wobbling. He touched his nose to her damp coat, and now he would understand. He would see the wretched shape of her, the unnatural twists of her limbs, the lovely soft tones of milky white were matted with mud and blood. He whimpered again, a hopeless, horrible noise. It was the sound of someone discovering heartbreak and horror, before they even knew the words that described them. He pawed at her, struggling and pushing until he could make his way under the giant limb of her forepaw. the cooling warmth of her body was faint, and did little to take away the cold of the coming night. Shivering uncontrollably he huddled there. He understood that she was gone, and well he had seen and knew little in his young life, he knew it was wrong to leave her like this. He knew it in the very marrow of his bones. Besides, he had nowhere else to go. She was home. And so he stayed, curled against the body of his dead mother. |
Astraios is broken, mostly mute, with a death wish