Pilgrimage (Festival Climax)
09-24-2014, 09:51 PM
OOC: Trying not to PP too much here D:
If there was beauty in death Thor had never seen it. As far as he could tell, death was an ugly, desperate process. The dying usually went unwillingly; their eyes wide, chest heaving as they struggled to hold onto existence. Frequently, control of bodily functions was lost in the moments right before or after death, leaving a stinking, undignified mess. Sometimes the dying went outside their usual stoic facade and plead for the opportunity to just keep breathing. There was rarely dignity or grace. No, as far as the brute was concerned, death was a dark affair. There was no beauty in it. Splayed jaws would seek out the blasphemous appendage. They'd close, taking New's tongue in a merciless grip. The feeling of the captured prize moving against his teeth struck him as odd, but the thought was fleeting and in a heartbeat they scissored completely shut, cutting off the life that gave it motion. Blood welled in his mouth and sprayed out of the corners, splattering his cheeks and wetting the ground. He straightened and cast the useless piece aside, the excess juice running down his chin to stain his throat and drip onto his chest. The brute considered his downed adversary before speaking. In his father's war campaign, Thor had taken the lives of an untold amount of wolves. There was no bragging behind it, no sense of accomplishment. He did, however, think he had a fair idea of the kind of worth life had. It was never his to take, but he took it anyway. There was shame in that. Glory too, if you believed in that sort of thing. That this punk would wet himself over a life given willingly and with the most dignity Thor had ever witnessed was beyond him. He considered it extremely disrespectful that New would not only speak out against it, but laugh. He had laughed at the death of another being. Where was his righteous indignation there? "Who are you to decide what gives life or death meaning?" Reality came crashing down on him then. He realized, several minutes too late, that he was in the wrong. Not necessarily in punishing the other brute, but in defiling the sacrificial grounds. The festival had been built on neutrality and he had flouted the rules. Thor stiffened and pivoted to face Katja. He would not apologize for the act he had just finished with, but he would do the next best thing and remove himself from the festivities. "Lady Katja." The brute dipped his head, turned, and was gone, barking a command for his girls (if they were in the area) to follow him. -exit Thor- Speech |
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