Wails of the dead

Sirius · 11-01-2019, 01:41 AM

He looked to the head of his wife for a long time, before a bitter growl escaped him, and he lashed forward, wanting, needing to rent something asunder. He fought for those that had taken the lives of his loved ones, turning upon the killing forward, seeking their blood, and finding none there. He stilled, nose to the air, searching for some clue, when he felt something touch his rump. He whirled, fangs extended, and finally awoke from the terror.

He was in the new den he and Zee had built together, his wife was cowering in the corner, horns lowered to protect her from his obvious wrath. The anger fell away from him like water washing off a body. He stilled, frozen, mind reeling and attempting to catch up. His students, his Zee, they weren’t dead.

He collapsed to his knees, looking warily at Zee, wondering what went through his mind. Did she resent him for scaring her so/ he wanted to scoop her up, bury her in the crook of his arm and dare the godammit world to touch her. He wanted to kill something.

Instead, he let out an agonised, weary sigh through his nostrils and scuffed the dirt with an oversized paw. “I thought… It’s been weeks. I thought perhaps they didn’t plague me anymore” he said exhaustion leaking into his tones. He was suppose to be a leader, why was he instead such a terrible failure? “Zee…?’ he whispered, worried she would respond with fear.

"Speech"

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Wails of the dead

Sirius