The moment...the second he heard someone approaching he spun towards the sound. The skin along his lips wrinkled and pulled away to show his shining canines, now strong adult teeth. His bright stunning eyes were narrowed as he glared at the man who was his father. He barely recognized him, and he certainly did seem a little worse for ware. His white fur clung along his ribs, and the scent of herbs overtook his senses. The man was wounded, and a small part of Vitus was pleased with it, another part concerned, but the rest was still angry. This was the man Vitus was predestined to look up too, the man who had reared him and who was supposed to be his role model This was the man who hurt his mother, who’s disappearance took away vital hours, days...weeks of bonding and affection that he and his brothers would never return. And yet, here he was, torn and beaten and half starved. Vitus nearly pittied him. Well, he would if he knew what pity was.
With a deep sigh he shook his head, turning his stunning eyes away from his father for a moment. He asked what was wrong, and Vitus’ throat burned too much for him to say. He had harmed himself to summon his father, who had since now been unable to be summoned. He suddenly began to cough, hack as the trickling of copper slipped down his throat. It hurt, but he ignored it. "You.." He rasped with difficulty, coughing as the word stung at his vocal cords again. Eyes turned back to him before he bared his teeth again, glaring. "’ou...back...why?" He asked in his rasping voice, feeling something begin to sting at his eyes. Never in Vitus’ life had he cried or even make much of a sound, and yet this man had somehow managed to pull all that from him. Somehow. "Ma...’as hurt..." Nails bit at the ground as he tried to control the raging anger inside of him, as well as ignore the ache in his throat. "E-ev….ything...br’ken.." He began to cough again, hacking, whining as it burned and scrapped. Yet he continued to stand strong, proud, his watering eyes narrowing as he quickly regained his stance after his coughing fit. The only thing that held him back from the fires of his rage was the idea that his mother could use no more pain.
"Speech" |
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