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+--- Thread: Duck Lake burning cities and napalm skies (/showthread.php?tid=33084)
burning cities and napalm skies - Dawn - March 05, 2019
simply because she was resolute did not mean that she knew where to start. she'd return to the Hollow and speak to Rannoch. or, perhaps she ought to balance her search and the duties. leaving suddenly to find those lost had been the biggest regret of her life thus far; she did not want to repeat her past mistakes here. she could not do to Rannoch what she'd done the Sunny and her packmates; for now, she would try her best at a balaning act.
she veered towards the lake edge, pushing her muzzle through the thin crust of ice and drinking deeply in an attempt to ease the fire in her throat. the cold was a balm, and she stayed there for a long moment, gaze settling somewhere on the ice before her.
@Siarut! attempt 2.0 after my last post turned into a novel.
RE: burning cities and napalm skies - Siarut - March 06, 2019
Time changed at random speeds for the man, his memories dragged on for eternity while his sensible moments happened in a flash. He couldn’t tell what was real anymore and what was fake. His emotions tore at his flesh, digging deeper wounds. His mind playing tricks, trying to deceive him. Ghosts from his past resurfacing, teasing him, pushing him further and further.
The lake was new, a break from the bleak trees that he was used to. Although the water lacked the customary rippling effect due to a thin layer of ice, Siarut still found the idea somewhat comforting. He had never found water to be soothing before, he much preferred the peak of mountains and the slip of ice rather than the salty arctic sea. But today, today the lake was a welcomed sight.
Even as he approached, he could still feel the edge, the constant fear that something was wrong or amiss. His life had become a balancing act, always teetering on a thin line of sanity. A line from which he often fell. Today however, was a good day. So far, anyway. And the polar bear had every intention of taking advantage of his clearer mind.
The silvery woman seemed to appear from nowhere, until Sia realized that he had spaced out once again. Losing a moment of his time. He was slow to recognize her, the woman from the Maplewood. The pang of lose took his breath away, and the ache in his chest increase just as the taunting voices grew louder. He could feel the prick of tears cloud his vision, unable to regulate his strong emotions. Sia wouldn’t let them fall, but he couldn’t stop the misty look about them. Unable to think of words, the large man merely stood and wait for the woman to notice him.
RE: burning cities and napalm skies - Dawn - March 06, 2019
she raises her gaze to find another standing there, entirely still, waiting. her ears flicked, slight irritation at his wordless entrance and her inability to notice it bubbling in her chest. but it stopped when she felt the depth of emotion in him; the fogginess of the green eyes that she knew. "northener." she knew him, then, and the memories came tumbling back into place. she paused a long moment, considering. they'd parted last with heated words and spite, yet with all that'd happened in the months of recent, they seemed so insignificant. she regards him with no such spite now, and instead studies hime a moment longer.
"you are alone, now." there is no packscent on his fur; only that of wind and earth. it is odd to see him like this; she'd never met him entirely alone while Morningside had stood. he'd been a proud leader, and protected his packmates, she remembered well. still, only the closest and strongest of packs fell, and now here he stood. as a wolf, not a figurehead to make peace with.
RE: burning cities and napalm skies - Siarut - March 06, 2019
There were no words to describe the feeling that her voice brought to his ears. The ache, and despair, he could hardly remember there last conversation, aside from the confidence that Nanook had brought him. The confidence of a pack mate at his side, ready to defend him and protect him. His thoughts only brought the ache deeper, setting in the marrow of his bones. A cruel laugh fell from his lips as he dipped his head, a feint of laughter to choke the sob threating to show. He nodded his head agreeing with the iron lady, he was indeed alone.
“The perfect time to strike.” Siarut taunted the woman, goading her into finally bring an end to his misery. The coward that he was, and he supposed he always had been. Slowly he lifted his head, olive gaze observing her delicate features. He could just make out the scaring on her frame, although he had never seen scars such as these, he couldn’t help but stare.
She lacked her traditional scent of grass and sunshine, rather she spoke of composting earth and ancient forests. “What happened?” He flicked his head, Sia’s gaze still fixed on the slowly healing flesh.
RE: burning cities and napalm skies - Dawn - March 06, 2019
he laughed, he goaded her, unsteady. there was an edge to the cruel laugh that made it seem paper-thin, and his words were left unreplied. but he was - alone, that was - and so was she. there was an odd sort of kinship they shared, then, two leaders fallen and alone. his muzzle lifted and the feeling passed; she watched him evenly as his gaze traced her. his next words lacked that desperate edge, and she answered after a beat. "I should ask you the same." but his question did not go long unanswered, and she drew further from the lakes edge to regard him better.
"fire. it burned down much of plains. some perished, most vanished." she paused, hating how sterile, cool the words sounded. she'd delivered them so many times they'd started to take on a clinical air, something removed, something only touched upon carefully as not to open the ugly wound. "I went out to search for the missing. I did not come back. when I did, more died and Morningside had fallen." his gaze was on the twisted scars on her chest; her legs, physical embodiments of all the raw pain she'd felt that day and all the days after.
RE: burning cities and napalm skies - Siarut - March 07, 2019
He could feel the saliva formulating as he realized the potential Pandora’s box that could have been unleashed. With a thick swallow he was glad that she continued with her own tale rather than pressing for his. There had been no need to him to share his own misfortunes, and he hoped he could continue his cowardice for just a little longer. The calm sense of darkness that invaded his mind and held his secrets close to his heart, he wasn’t sure he could let himself go just yet. To let the monster out and play.
So he pushed himself to focus instead. Focus on the words depicting the death and separation of another family. Siarut couldn’t help the self-loathing that came with her vacant recanting. While their similarities sprang from loneliness, their differences stemmed from their stories. Her story so dead and lacking emotion, yet heroic in it’s morals. The northern man could not say the same.
Guilt fissured in his chest, as he once again dipped his head. “I am sorry to hear that. Truly… I would not wish this on anyone.” Indicating their shared predicament. “Did you find anyone?” Hope glimmered in his words, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to look the woman in the eye, not wanting her to see his fear. Fear of finding anyone he cared for, yet being met with rejection.
RE: burning cities and napalm skies - Dawn - March 07, 2019
he saw heroism, she saw cowardism. she ought to have come back, and not wandered further then she knew even the furthest-ranging Morningsiders would have travelled. she'd left those that had remained and sought aimlessness in the far north. she did not know, still, if it was death or emptines she'd sought, but either way she'd given up. months had passed in a dull reverie, and she'd eaten only enough so that she may dance on the edge of life. enough time had passed to clot the grief and scar the pain and she'd returned; but too late.
the huntress listened silently to his words, there sparked the kinship again and the desperate feeling of lonelyness in her predicament lifted, for a moment. his next question was asked with gaze averted, hope in his words yet, she felt, the opposite in his eyes. "no. not even now." she was silent a moment, and then she spoke again. "I left the survivors to their fate. I was supposed to be strong, to hold them together" to be her father's daughter. "I abandoned them, and so much is my fault." she needed to say it allowed, the wrong she'd done, and in this moment she thought she'd found an ear.
she left barely and room for him to speak, not wanting reply to her words. she needed merely to speak them, admit her sin. "I am sorry, too. for what you've lost." she would not ask how he'd come to be alone; the grief was all too evident. in some twisted way it was good not to be alone in this, however, but this she would not say aloud.
RE: burning cities and napalm skies - Siarut - March 08, 2019
It was as if the floor gave way, and he was suddenly ashamed of the importance he placed on her answer. The emotion she choose to share help to break the ice further, the raging thud of his heart calmed. His green gaze took on a softer look, a silent tear fell that he refused to acknowledge.
“It appears we are both alone.” Although he spoke softly, Siarut had no doubt that she would hear. His gaze wandered as he thought of the next move, the unsteady feeling of branching out, pushing past his protection. Refocusing on the stone coloured woman, the brokenness still fixed in the look, but the loneliness a little less intense.
“I am Siarut…” The northerners voice was shaky, not at all the previous confidence he had claimed in the last conversation. “It is nice to meet you.” Sia offered his sanity on a platter for the woman, not sure if he could handle the simple rejection of a stranger. Perhaps this way, they could both be a little less alone.