they left without me
They do this every year!
07-04-2022, 03:24 AM
Callie had to have been the most unlucky wolf in the world. Not only was she the only child of her litter to be sent away to Abaven for 'extra training', but her father had alluded to paying the headmistress for the trouble of taking her. It might have been fun even to learn on the cliffs, surrounded by others her age and without a judgemental father at her back, but then the headmistress had vanished. In her absence the pack crumbled away, and while a teacher had tried to insist on escorting her back, the last thing Callie wanted to appear to her pack was a child in need of babysitting on the back of Abaven's failure to 'fix' her.
And then, as if life couldn't get any worse, she'd made her long trip home and found it... empty. Utterly devoid of canine life. The dens were collapsed, the cellar emptied, the obselisk was even gone. It was as if no trace of her home or family existed, like it was all a dream. They'd left, and they hadn't even bothered to tell her. Did they care at all if she ever came home?
Callie remained in the plains for weeks after, watching the seasons change from winter to spring and almost childishly hoping that they would return for her in time. Perhaps some disaster happened and they were forced to move, or quarantine or something. Maybe grandma got kidnapped again and this time Sirius devoted the entire force of the Armada to find her. Whatever the reason, they'd come back, right?
She was woken from her hastily dug den by the roar of wind. It was sudden, and while wind did happen on her cliffside home regularly, she never remembered it being so loud and frightening. Was it the lack of bodies that shared her den, that made it so intimidating? Or was it something else, some further evidence that Calypso Fatalis had the worst luck in the universe? Whatever it was, the sound intensified by the second.
She remained in her den for as long as she could - which wasn't long, because soon there was water. A torrent of water that flooded the base of her den in seconds, wetting her fire-touched pelt and bringing her pulse to frantic levels of rhythm. Callie needed to get out of this waterlogged hole that was quickly becoming death itself, and the yearling was forced to crawl through layer upon layer of mud to exit on time.
It was worse up above the surface, the world around her was being unmistakably ravaged. It was unrecognisable, not just by the wind and rain but by the tufts of long grass torn up and thrown in every direction. What grass had hung on in the plain was as 'low' as she'd ever seen it, the winds bending it with such force that she could for the first time in her life, see above the blades. There even seemed to be an almost grainy feel to the air, almost as if the winds had picked up the shore's sand and infused it into the atmosphere she breathed. The only thing she could be glad for was the lack of loose objects around to become weaponized by the strength and speed of the winds.
Callie didn't know what to do - nothing had prepared her for weathering a storm like this. Perhaps the cellar, had it been reinforced for such a storm? She'd need to try, and so she turned from the sandy shore and ran. The wind was strong and occasionally buffeted her strong enough to toss her off her feet, more then once shoving her against a heavy boulder. She could feel the bruises begin to form deep in her tissues, and if the rain was not weighing so heavily against her skin she'd have noticed tears streaming down her face.
She ran, against the harshness of the rain and against the winds, her eyes half-slitted in a feeble attempt at protection. It was nearly impossible for her to even see where she was going, there was no way she'd recognize the location of the cellar in the chaos even if the obelisk had still remained. She ran, and she ran, and eventually, she found herself back at the cliffs.
How had she gotten so turned around? Callie whimpered, her body growing exhausted from the stress and fear and sheer effort of trying to navigate this storm. The winds seemed to be growing slower, but still the storm raged on around her. She had long since given up trying to outrun it, there was nowhere safe to hide. The longer she stood against the powerful storm the less hope she had. One massive burst of wind pushed her hard, picking up her young body and throwing it against the cliff beside which she had sheltered, knocking her large frame against it and bringing with it, sudden darkness.
Word Count: 825
And then, as if life couldn't get any worse, she'd made her long trip home and found it... empty. Utterly devoid of canine life. The dens were collapsed, the cellar emptied, the obselisk was even gone. It was as if no trace of her home or family existed, like it was all a dream. They'd left, and they hadn't even bothered to tell her. Did they care at all if she ever came home?
Callie remained in the plains for weeks after, watching the seasons change from winter to spring and almost childishly hoping that they would return for her in time. Perhaps some disaster happened and they were forced to move, or quarantine or something. Maybe grandma got kidnapped again and this time Sirius devoted the entire force of the Armada to find her. Whatever the reason, they'd come back, right?
She was woken from her hastily dug den by the roar of wind. It was sudden, and while wind did happen on her cliffside home regularly, she never remembered it being so loud and frightening. Was it the lack of bodies that shared her den, that made it so intimidating? Or was it something else, some further evidence that Calypso Fatalis had the worst luck in the universe? Whatever it was, the sound intensified by the second.
She remained in her den for as long as she could - which wasn't long, because soon there was water. A torrent of water that flooded the base of her den in seconds, wetting her fire-touched pelt and bringing her pulse to frantic levels of rhythm. Callie needed to get out of this waterlogged hole that was quickly becoming death itself, and the yearling was forced to crawl through layer upon layer of mud to exit on time.
It was worse up above the surface, the world around her was being unmistakably ravaged. It was unrecognisable, not just by the wind and rain but by the tufts of long grass torn up and thrown in every direction. What grass had hung on in the plain was as 'low' as she'd ever seen it, the winds bending it with such force that she could for the first time in her life, see above the blades. There even seemed to be an almost grainy feel to the air, almost as if the winds had picked up the shore's sand and infused it into the atmosphere she breathed. The only thing she could be glad for was the lack of loose objects around to become weaponized by the strength and speed of the winds.
Callie didn't know what to do - nothing had prepared her for weathering a storm like this. Perhaps the cellar, had it been reinforced for such a storm? She'd need to try, and so she turned from the sandy shore and ran. The wind was strong and occasionally buffeted her strong enough to toss her off her feet, more then once shoving her against a heavy boulder. She could feel the bruises begin to form deep in her tissues, and if the rain was not weighing so heavily against her skin she'd have noticed tears streaming down her face.
She ran, against the harshness of the rain and against the winds, her eyes half-slitted in a feeble attempt at protection. It was nearly impossible for her to even see where she was going, there was no way she'd recognize the location of the cellar in the chaos even if the obelisk had still remained. She ran, and she ran, and eventually, she found herself back at the cliffs.
How had she gotten so turned around? Callie whimpered, her body growing exhausted from the stress and fear and sheer effort of trying to navigate this storm. The winds seemed to be growing slower, but still the storm raged on around her. She had long since given up trying to outrun it, there was nowhere safe to hide. The longer she stood against the powerful storm the less hope she had. One massive burst of wind pushed her hard, picking up her young body and throwing it against the cliff beside which she had sheltered, knocking her large frame against it and bringing with it, sudden darkness.
Word Count: 825
While she is underage, Azure, Hanako and Sirius can crash her threads whenever they see fit regardless of tag.
Calypso has grizzly bear claws upon her forepaws, bone spurs on her shoulder blades, and saber-teeth. These may not be visible on her art.
Wherever color appears along Calypso's pelt, the fur there pulses and glows to the beat of her heart. The effect is noticeable, but not at all blinding.
Current time: 08-26-2024, 09:32 AM
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