Tonight We Are Victorious

*Andante* · (This post was last modified: 03-05-2019, 06:05 PM by Andante.)

“speech” & thoughts

A russet-toned brute weaved deliberately in between the pack of wolves that were freed from the Slavers. His intense gaze held briefly on a snowy-hued fae before flickering elsewhere after realizing that it wasn’t her. Where was she? There was a glint of dread that would reflect across his emerald orbs and his heart began to sink when he realized the worst. A few nights prior he’d managed to escape on his own, though the fresh scars along his flank testified to the price that he paid in doing so. He’d promised Illia that he would return and after shadowing the Slavers for those few days, he did. Just as a war broke out.

Chaos ensued as an unknown party launched an attack against them. Throughout the assault, Andante kept a low profile, opting instead to find her. The night he’d left, Toxic had ordered his death. Even though, Andante was born to a victim of Toxic’s assault, Toxic took to him. After his mother fled, Andante made his way up among the slaves and quickly caught his father’s selfish interest. Desiring to have his son follow in his footsteps, Toxic approached Andante offering him a chance to become a Slaver. When Andante refused, Toxic lashed out at him. Dante fought bravely, but had he not turned to run he would have been killed on the spot by their leader and his followers. The ruffian knew that Dante had his eye on Illia and Andante feared that Toxic would turn his rage to her if he didn’t return.

The stench of death hung in the air and carnage spread out across the fields. The metallic scent stung his nostrils and the grass was wet from the blood beneath his paws. They were all gone. Every single one of them. He’d noticed that some of the corpses were beheaded and in awe he realized to whom those bodies belonged. A huff of air would escape his maw in satisfaction. Served the bastard right.

The attacking party wasn’t far ahead, so Andante caught up with them in no time. It was only a matter of locating her. Approaching the group, he observed those at the forefront with mild interest. Clearly, they were the leaders of this bloodshed. He kept his distance from the strangers, preferring to mingle among the freed slaves. He was only there to find her. Once she’d been found, they could leave.

Yet, the growing anxiety in him began to break through his stoic façade. A low snarl of frustration emitted from his maw and his auds perked, frame tense. Nagging in the back of his mind was the possibility of what had happened, though Andante refused to confront it. No, he had to be absolutely sure. If Illia was not there then that meant that she was dead. His gaze swept frantically once more over the slaves before he drew closer to the strangers. Perhaps, she was among them? He was careful to keep his distance, only close enough so that he could make out their features.

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