que sera, sera

*Kyarst* · (This post was last modified: 02-11-2015, 06:33 PM by Kyarst.)

He now knew the frustration of being left, and it left a sickening taste in his jowls. He had left her once, and she had forgiven him. Now it was she who was gone, and he could feel the anger she once held bubbling up in his chest. They had all left him, dissolved into nothingness. All of those he had once trusted and even loved - gone or too pitiful to be around. He was bitter and frustrated and furious that his life, which had once been so promising, had turned out to be nothing better than this.

But there was hope. He had heard the Armadas now held a portion of the South. They were Armadas he was scarcely familiar with - and had possibly never even met - but they were blood all the same. It would be this blood that he would seek, and to the South he would go. Paws of great size would carry him onward, toward the sound of a river. He needed a drink, to bathe, and more importantly - to eat. A river could provide all of these things in one pass, and he would be reunited with kin in no time.

He arrived at the river, delving into it's depths without even a moment of hesitation. The current was strong, but he was stronger. He almost reveled in how powerful he felt while striding against the current. He waded into deeper water, bending his legs until his shoulder blades were beneath the surface. He would blow water from his nostrils while dipping his head under the water, ensuring an all over clean. His mother would be proud, his father too. They had prided themselves in their appearance, and so he did the same. He marched back out of the water a moment later, dipping his cranium to the river and lapping thirstily from its' depths.

“speak,”

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que sera, sera

Kyarst