Nothing can come close
10-03-2019, 05:48 PM
The boy had finally reached a stage where dreams would come to him, after so long. In his dream, he played with his father, they were pretending to fight off invisible enemies. The dream showed in small yips and twitching toes, but the smile was plain on his face. The giant that was his father batted a paw at Plague, and the pup returned this with a nip to the same paw. For the first time since learning his father had passed, the pup gave a small laugh in his sleep. The dream ended all too soon, his body registering the warmth from his mother as he began to stir.
Opening deep emerald eyes, the young prince started awake. Being tossed into bitter reality was too much for his young mind, and it whirled under the shock. The sound that ushered from him was pure heartbreak, a choking sob that threatened to take the very breath from him and he felt as though he would surely die from renewed pain. "Momma...he was right here!" The young boy turned and buried his face into his mother's chest, finally letting the dam break as tears poured from him and he shook with the weight of his grief. "We were even playing!" His words were muffled by the thickness of her pelt, but the sorrow in his tones could never have been mistaken.
How would he ever recover? How could the dark god give him such a good dream, when reality was so harsh? Why would the diety do him this way? He was confused, but he knew the dream had been nothing more than that. Now he faced the crushing realness of his loss, and that nothing would fix it. He let go, pouring tears into Deathbelle's fur. Would he ever be better?
Opening deep emerald eyes, the young prince started awake. Being tossed into bitter reality was too much for his young mind, and it whirled under the shock. The sound that ushered from him was pure heartbreak, a choking sob that threatened to take the very breath from him and he felt as though he would surely die from renewed pain. "Momma...he was right here!" The young boy turned and buried his face into his mother's chest, finally letting the dam break as tears poured from him and he shook with the weight of his grief. "We were even playing!" His words were muffled by the thickness of her pelt, but the sorrow in his tones could never have been mistaken.
How would he ever recover? How could the dark god give him such a good dream, when reality was so harsh? Why would the diety do him this way? He was confused, but he knew the dream had been nothing more than that. Now he faced the crushing realness of his loss, and that nothing would fix it. He let go, pouring tears into Deathbelle's fur. Would he ever be better?
