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+--- Thread: Deepwood Weald the thread where alarian finally fucking dies (/showthread.php?tid=33127)
the thread where alarian finally fucking dies - Alarian - March 08, 2019
@Moath come eat me pls
He's wandering the borders today, marking idly in an attempt to at least seem like he's pulling his weight. Though he doubts anyone will really be complaining, he hates the idea that his place here is entirely dependent on Midar. It sort of is, but he wants to be able to tell himself otherwise. He's still feeling rather intimidated by pretty much everyone except Moira and Nyx, so socializing is out of the question. He tries to hunt when he can, but truth be told, the cold weather makes his bad leg hurt — so here he is. Patrolling. Pretending he could actually be useful if there was an intruder at the borders. He pauses to mark at a tree, wondering what Midar is up to right now; they aren't apart often, but it seems his lover crosses his mind every few minutes when they are, and sometimes it drives him a little crazy. He really needs a life beyond his mate... but he's not sure if that's going to happen any time soon.
RE: the thread where alarian finally fucking dies - Moath - March 09, 2019
There was nowhere left to go, nowhere left to run. Panic crept up my throat as I ran into yet another dead end, and realized he had led me here. Turning around, I found him...
Where most would learn to stop such carnage, where their wounds and aches would pain them and warn them to stop, to live and heal, Moath had no such concept. He would wander yet again, today, seeking the fulfillment of a bottomless void that resides in him.
Fresh urine caught him in midstride, and with a lowered top he inhaled the stringy wet information. Male, healthy. Middle aged. With the wetness came the scent attached to the pawprints, misshapen tracks that had an untimed beat to their rhythm. The metronome was unsteady.
But the thread was there.
And this he began to follow.
A silver figure was further up. A drag came with it, steam whirling about the slender figure as it made a 1-2 uneven march around the territory. This was too close to the Family.
This food was too close to the Family.
Food.
And then the urge arose.
And in silence, he waited.