I just wanna run like a child
for Theory
05-04-2020, 05:25 PM
Kai was restless, but he'd been restless for a long time. This was a different kind of restlessness though, the kind that physically ached deep in his bones. Time was passing far too slowly for comfort... but then again, it was hard to really wrap his mind around the fact that he was already six years old. Somehow, his imprisonment and subsequent delivery to Winterfell had been over a year ago now, and in that time what exactly had he accomplished? Not a goddamn fucking thing, and it was beginning to piss him off, even if it was nobody's fault but his own.
One more raid, he had to remind himself, and he'd earned his rightful freedom. As if freedom was something that needed to be earned rather than his given birthright. The thought was a sour one and he frowned as he kicked at the sand beneath his paws, watching as it flew up, cast aside by a breeze that swept in over the bay. Why was he here, anyway? He wasn't totally sure. He'd been born in Abaven, though not in these lands. He didn't think their lands had been far from here back then, though it was hard to perfectly recall his earliest days. It felt strangely cyclical for him to end up in the position he was in now - or had been, rather, fighting against them for something that he'd inadvertently been the cause of, something that he couldn't bring himself to truly care about.
Wasn't it funny how things worked out?
Yeah. It was funny alright.
He didn't pay attention to Abaven's marked border as he crossed it, as nonchalant as could be. He was sick of packs and their contrived rules and their dreadful, worthless politics. He was free, goddamnit, despite what anyone else believed. Kicking another spray of sand up, he felt himself shiver as he strode into the frigid water of the bay. It was always warmer here than it was in the north, but there was no denying that winter had arrived even in these lands. Grumbling something incoherent beneath his breath, he continued to stride into the water until his paws could no longer touch the sand. Lucky for him, the waves were quite calm here, and he was able to wade in the frigid water without much struggle, wondering if he stayed for too long if the sea might carry him away to somewhere else entirely.
One more raid, he had to remind himself, and he'd earned his rightful freedom. As if freedom was something that needed to be earned rather than his given birthright. The thought was a sour one and he frowned as he kicked at the sand beneath his paws, watching as it flew up, cast aside by a breeze that swept in over the bay. Why was he here, anyway? He wasn't totally sure. He'd been born in Abaven, though not in these lands. He didn't think their lands had been far from here back then, though it was hard to perfectly recall his earliest days. It felt strangely cyclical for him to end up in the position he was in now - or had been, rather, fighting against them for something that he'd inadvertently been the cause of, something that he couldn't bring himself to truly care about.
Wasn't it funny how things worked out?
Yeah. It was funny alright.
He didn't pay attention to Abaven's marked border as he crossed it, as nonchalant as could be. He was sick of packs and their contrived rules and their dreadful, worthless politics. He was free, goddamnit, despite what anyone else believed. Kicking another spray of sand up, he felt himself shiver as he strode into the frigid water of the bay. It was always warmer here than it was in the north, but there was no denying that winter had arrived even in these lands. Grumbling something incoherent beneath his breath, he continued to stride into the water until his paws could no longer touch the sand. Lucky for him, the waves were quite calm here, and he was able to wade in the frigid water without much struggle, wondering if he stayed for too long if the sea might carry him away to somewhere else entirely.