+- Wolf RPG (https://wolf-rpg.com)
+-- Forum: In Character: Roleplaying (https://wolf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=5)
+--- Forum: Archives (https://wolf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=11)
+--- Thread: Blacktail Deer Plateau Professional griefers (/showthread.php?tid=3078)
Professional griefers - Peregrine Redhawk - July 02, 2014
To say he was distraught might have been the understatement of the decade. Peregrine couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't sit still. He knew no peace. His limited mobility had frustrated him before; now it was a cruel and unusual form of torture, as he couldn't join the search parties. He felt useless, wretched and as if every single minute took several years to pass. In fact, his sense of time was lost. He was in a personal hell.
He had but one true comfort: the three remaining pups. He stayed as close to them as possible, perhaps even being overbearing at times, and absolutely insisted they all stick together if they left the rendezvous site. Often, he would shadow them, unwilling to let them leave his sight. He couldn't bear the thought of losing one of them too. And watching over them gave him some sort of function, since he was absolutely useless when it came to locating his daughter or (he could barely stand to think of it) her remains.
Another overnight rain shower caused his injured leg to feel stiff, further incapacitating him. He couldn't follow the kids today, so he asked Kisu to keep an eye on them, even if he just skulked in the background. In the meantime, Peregrine sought solace he would never find by slipping slowly through the forest until he reached the plateau's rear wall. He found Pied's grave and flung himself across it, his dusky blue-green eyes rolling unseeingly toward the overcast sky.
RE: Professional griefers - Atticus - July 02, 2014
I am so lost with all this recent plot development, holy crap. @__@
Much like his brother, Atticus had not slept. Had not eaten. Compared to his usual handsome composure and confidence, he was a wreck. Though every adult in every family always insisted they did not play favorites with children, that was always a lie. There was always a favorite. And Junior had been his favorite. Her disappearance had distressed him in a way that nothing ever had before. Ever. Being nearly killed by a brother he had loved and looked up to didn't come close. The sense of betrayal and imminent doom he had felt when he'd been convinced Peregrine was doing the same wasn't even comparable. Even his own child suddenly disappearing out of his life didn't hold a candle to the raging inferno of anger and despair that consumed him, burning and agonizing and driving him to search desperately for her all hours of the day and night, his own health, his own pack, his own responsibilities be damned.
He was searching for her when he found his brother, sprawled across Pied's grave. As if that'll help anything, he couldn't help thinking angrily as he approached. Part of him couldn't help blaming Peregrine for the child's disappearance, though he knew that was unfair and irrational. "Hey," he greeted Perry in a husky, strained voice, first sitting down near his brother and then crumpling further to lie down. He was exhausted; the drawn cast to his face, the tired slump of his shoulders, and the red that rimmed his glacier eyes made it all the more apparent.
RE: Professional griefers - Peregrine Redhawk - July 03, 2014
Yeah, it moved rather quickly yesterday! Sorry if it gave you (or anybody else) whiplash! <3
He heard Atticus approaching but didn't move until his brother spoke. Turning slowly toward him, Peregrine saw his own horror and grief mirrored in Atticus's ice chip eyes. He saw something else there too, something others who didn't know Atticus as well as he did might never notice, something that pierced down to the very roots of his existence. His lips parted but nothing came out for a minute.
When he could finally speak, he replied to his brother's unspoken accusation. "I know. I know it's my fault." He spoke softly, not an ounce of defensiveness in his voice. "I failed as a dad... and I'll be paying the price for as long as I live." Fresh shame and dismay washed over him and he looked away, unable to hold his brother's gaze.
RE: Professional griefers - Atticus - July 03, 2014
Never apologize for sudden juicy drama! :)
As his brother spoke, Atticus felt ashamed. He felt something breaking even further inside him. Closing his eyes, he exhaled for a few long seconds before inching closer to Perry. "No, it's not your fault. I'm sorry." He knew he couldn't keep secrets from his brother. They were too close, too bonded, they knew one another too well. So creepily intuitive were they to one another's subtle cues and expressions that, to an outside perspective, it might've appeared they could read one another's minds. "Junior is a force that can't be contained," he said after a few beats, his worry- and anguish-dulled eyes lingering on his forepaws. "It's easy to want to blame you for all of this, but…we all know how Junior likes to wander. We're all to blame, not just you."
RE: Professional griefers - Peregrine Redhawk - July 03, 2014
Atticus softened and apologized as he inched nearer to his younger brother. "Don't," Peregrine said, "Don't apologize. It's the truth. This was preventable, Atti, no matter what we try to tell ourselves. I shouldn't have played so fast and loose with my responsibilities. Yeah, she's willful and, yeah, it's tough to get her to listen... but she's a fucking puppy, man. I'm her daddy and I'm supposed to be tough on her to avoid... to avoid... this..."
He couldn't manage anything more. Fighting the urge to break down and sob, he scooted closer to Atticus and buried his face in his sibling's neck. He drew in slow, deep, shuddering breaths as he tried to steady himself in an onslaught of strong emotions.
After a moment, he spoke again, his voice muffled by his brother's fur. "I feel so fucking useless. I can't even help look for her. What if she's hiding somewhere and she's scared? What if she would only come out for me... and I can't even go out there because I'm a goddamn gimp?"
RE: Professional griefers - Atticus - July 03, 2014
Atticus knew there was undeniable truth to Peregrine's words. As the parent, he did bear more of the responsibility for their safety and well-being than anyone else might, but that didn't excuse the rest of them. Puppies were the future of the pack, and it was the pack's job to support the parents and ensure the pups remained safe and healthy. Peregrine wasn't the only one who'd failed. They'd all failed.
Peregrine came closer and buried his face in the thick fur of Atticus's neck. The Beta closed his eyes, his heart tearing a little bit more at the grief and pain his brother was going through. It was bad enough for him as their uncle; he couldn't imagine if they were his own children. He turned his face so his muzzle rested beside Perry's ear, encircling his younger brother's head in a small embrace, and said nothing for several moments. Perry's questions were valid, but Atticus didn't believe Junior was anywhere in the plateau's lands. They'd all searched high and low for her, and she was nowhere to be found. "We'll find her," he finally said, his voice soft. He wasn't sure he believed himself, but a part of him had to believe it. She had to be out there somewhere. "I won't stop until we do. You know I won't."
RE: Professional griefers - Peregrine Redhawk - July 03, 2014
Atticus held him and Peregrine leaned into the embrace, finding comfort and solidarity in it. When his brother spoke, Peregrine bobbed his head and sniffed. "I know, man," he replied. He said nothing else for a long moment, then said very quietly, "I'm just afraid... that we may find her... that she'll be hurt or sick or... or..." He swallowed and the word, "dead," passed across his lips like a quiet breeze through a graveyard.
RE: Professional griefers - Atticus - July 03, 2014
Atticus too found solace in his brother's touch, and made no effort to move away from him or break their contact. It had been so long since he'd felt a caring touch. It wasn't even a weird or romantic thing for him. Just the simple power of another's touch, the contact of someone that cared about you and wanted you to be happy, could have such a calming and soothing effect.
But Peregrine's words were ice water on his heart, and he felt a lance of terror shoot through him at the thought that Junior might be mortally wounded or already dead. He closed his eyes and winced as if he'd been struck, and felt the prickly sensation of his own eyes welling with tears. Blinking them away and forcing himself to be the strong one here, he simply said, "We have to believe that isn't the case, Perry." He swallowed, not wholly believing his own words but forcing his strength and will into them anyway. "These lands are ridiculously well-guarded. Someone will find her." A brief glimmer of humor entered his voice as he added, "Shit, she's such a hellion she's probably out there beating up bears 'n' shit for fun. We're probably all worrying for nothing." The grin that crossed his weary face didn't reach his eyes, though, as he gently licked his brother's head.
RE: Professional griefers - Peregrine Redhawk - July 04, 2014
Atticus's optimistic words made Peregrine grateful, yet at the same time, he feared to hope. "If I don't accept the possibility, it will fucking shatter me if it turns out she's gone," he admitted almost too softly to hear. Although it was amusing (if excruciatingly painful) to picture Osprey wrestling with bears, it was much more likely she'd been mauled by a bear or any other large predator; or died of exposure; or, of course, the most likely cause: drowning.
Peregrine mustered a low, grateful whine when his brother licked his head, then turned and weakly returned the gesture with a single swipe of his tongue over Atticus's bristly muzzle. He then let his head sink to rest across his litter mate's forelegs.
"This is where I buried Pied," he murmured. His brain was too gummy from grief and lack of sleep that he couldn't remember if Atticus already knew that. He most likely did. "I wish she was here, Atti, and you know why? Pied could see ghosts. I decided I believe she was telling the truth about that. And if she was here... and if she couldn't see Osprey... then I'd know that it was okay to hope."
RE: Professional griefers - Atticus - July 07, 2014
He understood what Perry was saying, because he felt the same way. There were any number of possibilities for what had become of Junior, but generally in situations like this, the simplest explanation tended to be the case. It sickened him to think about it, but death was the simplest explanation here. He didn't voice these thoughts, but they definitely underlined what Peregrine said. As the broken Alpha lay his head across Atticus's forelegs, he laid his own head across Perry's shoulders.
He mm-hmmed softly as Perry mentioned that this was where he'd buried Pied. He knew that, of course, but as exhausted and stressed as they both were, neither of them was thinking as clearly as they normally did. Perry brought up a good point about Pied and her ability to see ghosts. Atticus had never been entirely convinced about Pied's ability. He'd always thought her kind of a weirdo, even though he'd liked her and respected her very much. "Any kind of answers would be nice right now," he said quietly in response to his brother. "I wish we could just find something. A pawprint, a tuft of hair, a scent mark, anything."
RE: Professional griefers - Peregrine Redhawk - July 16, 2014
Would you care if we faded this? <3
Atticus's words of sympathetic camaraderie twisted the knife currently plunged into Peregrine's heart. It was horrific enough that nobody could find a single trace of his daughter. It was doubly terrible that Peregrine himself couldn't really help them look. He'd done his best but with his busted foot, he was incredibly limited. If not for it, he would've been scouring every inch of Teekon Wilds and the surrounding lands until he found out what happened to Osprey. By the time it healed, all traces of her would be long gone...
Unable to find words anymore, Peregrine noiselessly pressed against his brother. He wanted to let loose and sob his heart out, knowing his brother would never judge him, but the swarthy male found himself unable to produce anything but a sigh so deep it seemed to drag up from the depths of his soul. He clung to Atticus, drawing some meager measure of comfort and warmth from his brother's presence... and even some from Pied's as well. This was perhaps the most peaceful spot on the plateau, even if there was no peace for Peregrine and his broken heart... and might never be again.
RE: Professional griefers - Atticus - July 18, 2014
Atticus could see the pain and the anguish in his brother's face, could hear all the quiet screams of frustration and rage that tore through him merely by looking at Perry's stormy ocean eyes. He didn't know what else to say. There was nothing else he could say. What words -- what petty little words -- could quell the pain of a child lost?
Silence descended over the brothers, one of both grief and comfort. They mourned together, each finding solace in the presence of the other. Atticus felt like the only thing anchoring him in reality was the press of Peregrine's shoulder against his own. He could only imagine how it felt to be in Perry's shoes, for it to be this bad in his.