The Angels Sang A Whiskey Lullaby
06-07-2021, 07:37 PM
The massive man felt cramped and claustrophobic in this den of death, but he stayed as he watched Aranea continue to break down and suffer. This was his punishment - his true and final punishment for allowing any of this to happen. He would stand here and endure these final moments, his eyes on Aranea, but his mind outside with his children that laid in a grave under a maple tree. Her gasping final words were painful like a dagger to his heart, but that couldn't even compare to the loss and the pain that he felt at the fact that those pups were gone. He wished he could give her that final reprieve as she asked for him to tell her that he had loved her, but he couldn't. Perhaps at one point he could have, but no longer. He had cut those feelings away before they could fully take hold and now that he knew what love truly should feel like he knew that's not what he had felt for Aranea. He had felt a desperate attraction and he had cared about her as someone that was in his life, but all of that had been tainted and burned away.
He watched as her last words left her and her eyes rolled back. She was gone, though her body clung on for a moment longer. Swallowing back the bile that threatened to rise up from his stomach, he crossed the den to where her small, frail form continued to twitch and struggle. He placed a large paw on her shoulder near the base of her neck and took her head in the other, closing his eyes and looking away as he snarled and made a quick, hard twist of her neck. Her body finally went limp and his face contorted with pain and emotion. He pulled himself up, staggering out of the den and breathing deep the late afternoon air. He found his way back to the small grave he had dug and looked down at the pups that laid within it. He sank to his haunches and he thought he might cry for them, but his chest was achingly hollow. He reached a paw down and gently caressed their bodies, even the one that could barely be called a fully formed pup in most regards.
As much as this loss hurt, as much as he mourned these children that he had never gotten to know, a thought crossed his mind that finally forced him back to his paws. He carefully slid the dirt he had dug up back into the grave, sealing the tiny bodies away as he packed down the dirt over them. He moved around to the over side of the tree and began to dig another grave, this one larger though not by a whole lot. Aranea was a small woman. When he thought he might have it large enough he went back to the den, trying to move quickly to get away from the stench that lingered there. He carried her out by her scruff, only slightly dragging her paws across the ground. She felt like we weighed nothing. He lowered her gently into her grave, pushing the dirt over her as well. When it was all said and done he sat there for a long moment, looking at the two pieces of over turned earth, and he just felt tired. It was a feeling that he had grown used to feeling over the last month or so. But he was done here. The loss and the pain lingered, but he needed to go. He got up and began to move back into the castle, seeking out the face that he had kept him from cracking as he buried Aranea and their children - the face of his daughter that he had nearly lost and hadn't.
Ulric Adravendi
He watched as her last words left her and her eyes rolled back. She was gone, though her body clung on for a moment longer. Swallowing back the bile that threatened to rise up from his stomach, he crossed the den to where her small, frail form continued to twitch and struggle. He placed a large paw on her shoulder near the base of her neck and took her head in the other, closing his eyes and looking away as he snarled and made a quick, hard twist of her neck. Her body finally went limp and his face contorted with pain and emotion. He pulled himself up, staggering out of the den and breathing deep the late afternoon air. He found his way back to the small grave he had dug and looked down at the pups that laid within it. He sank to his haunches and he thought he might cry for them, but his chest was achingly hollow. He reached a paw down and gently caressed their bodies, even the one that could barely be called a fully formed pup in most regards.
As much as this loss hurt, as much as he mourned these children that he had never gotten to know, a thought crossed his mind that finally forced him back to his paws. He carefully slid the dirt he had dug up back into the grave, sealing the tiny bodies away as he packed down the dirt over them. He moved around to the over side of the tree and began to dig another grave, this one larger though not by a whole lot. Aranea was a small woman. When he thought he might have it large enough he went back to the den, trying to move quickly to get away from the stench that lingered there. He carried her out by her scruff, only slightly dragging her paws across the ground. She felt like we weighed nothing. He lowered her gently into her grave, pushing the dirt over her as well. When it was all said and done he sat there for a long moment, looking at the two pieces of over turned earth, and he just felt tired. It was a feeling that he had grown used to feeling over the last month or so. But he was done here. The loss and the pain lingered, but he needed to go. He got up and began to move back into the castle, seeking out the face that he had kept him from cracking as he buried Aranea and their children - the face of his daughter that he had nearly lost and hadn't.
