Eating fire
08-27-2013, 07:10 PM
Basilisk Saxe was tormented. Always. Dreams of his father's death haunted his sleep, visions of his mother and two siblings seemed to peer tauntingly at him from every dark path he crossed. He had not been angry with his sister; no, instead he'd felt vaguely like he'd been abandoned. Betrayed, perhaps? Had she, too, been in Newt's inner circle while he felt as though he had been cast out of it? He even felt anger at the blind woman who seemed to soothe his mother's pain. Zara. She would not replace his father, nobody could replace him ... how dare she even try. The thought of her brought a snarl to his lips as he padded aimlessly, hoping a long journey from home might soothe his mind. It was strange, how a boy could feel so many tormented emotions and yet feel so empty all the same. It felt as though he had no place anywhere in the world, instead was trying to force himself into somewhere he did not belong.. But the darkness was indeed comforting, and he felt the weight of the word lift briefly off his shoulders as night fell deeper, and darkness grew heavier. It was only by chance that he caught wind of his sister's scent, though it was not by any means a miracle. He had been wandering precariously close to his mother, his family, keeping an eye on them -- and yet remaining as distant and absent as ever. His attention was captured by the startlingly loud sound of water, a loud hissing as though the earth itself was threatening to swallow someone alive. Ears fell flat against his skull as he padded forward, nose low to the ground. Soon Ameiva came into view, a female about his size with startlingly similar features. How badly he had longed for her presence since the family had been torn apart; he wondered if he would've been okay if only she had not strayed. But they all had, and there was no changing the past. "Syn," he rumbled simply, his voice no longer that of a boy, but of a young man. And yet he was no more wise or sure of himself than he had been merely months ago. In fact, he was even more unstable, more broken. He stood silently, a safe distance away, watching her with interest and expectancy. Syn had always been close to him, though he hadn't been particularly open in his affections to her -- but it seemed to have never bothered her in the slightest. He would not deny he missed such things, for family loyalty had been engrained deeply into the boy, despite how let down and abandoned he felt. Vivid purple gaze watched as she neared the spouting water, feeling the warmth emanate even from such a distance. |
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