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+--- Thread: Blacktail Deer Plateau oh, it's not that you should care; i just wanted you to know (/showthread.php?tid=35194)
oh, it's not that you should care; i just wanted you to know - Winterbourne - June 14, 2019
Mature Content Warning
This thread has been marked as mature. By reading and/or participating in this thread, you acknowledge that you are of age or have permission from your parents to do so.The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: cw: teen angst, self harm
He shudders a little as he hurries toward the outskirts of Kaistleoki's territory, overwhelmed by the thundering sound of his racing heart and his own fast, uneven breathing. He makes a point of avoiding the scents of his packmates, though he isn't trying to leave the territory. Unfortunately, his hazy state leaves him at a disadvantage. He goes too far, hardly realizing he's past the borders until his surroundings have become entirely unfamiliar.
When he finally notices, the energy seems to leave him all at once. His limbs stop responding without warning, and he tumbles, collapsing into the dirt without really seeing where he is. He can't breathe now, heart hammering in his ears so loudly he thinks his head might burst, and suddenly all he can think is I hate myself. For being a monster, a failure, a fucked-up orphan with no future, even when one has been handed to him. He feels the sharp, fiery pain in his foreleg before he registers his own teeth around it, tightening for a moment. Then he comes back to himself, and his grip falls away, and he realizes all at once that something is wrong with him. But he'd known that, hadn't he? The thought consumes him, and soon he's aware of nothing but the fire spreading over his forelegs.
RE: oh, it's not that you should care; i just wanted you to know - Evergreen - June 14, 2019
Days pass carrying the crown, a weight Evergreen never expected to feel. It does not sink in at first, until he sees their faces, until he notices how each of them look at him. ‘Is this right,’ his brain supplies, often doubting his own abilities. For he promises much, and part of him fears he will crumble. The mountain he has climbed; is the foundation stable?
These are thoughts the bearish wolf wonders about during his patrol. Each step taken slow, distracted. Interrupted only when he spots a familiar form rushing before him. At first, he thinks maybe the silver male had seen him, and was coming towards the Count. “Winte—” He cuts off, furrowing eyebrows. Fur bristles atop his spine. Something felt wrong.
Winterbourne does not notice him, thundering off away from Kaistleoki’s hold almost frantically. As if the territory itself is suffocating. Evergreen’s mind roars. Thump. Thump. Thump. He goes after. Winterbourne’s speed puts a distance between them, but he follows his trail without hesitation. Round ears twitch, swerving forward at the sound of something collapsing ahead.
By the time he arrives, the air is thick with a metallic scent he knows too familiar.
Blood. Mangled. Death. Failure.
Who? In that moment, he is back to seeing a monster looming over Thistle’s body torn asunder. He does not realize how close he comes to Winterbourne, how he’s crying, or pushing his head into the silver male’s shoulder in a feeble attempt to make him stop.
RE: oh, it's not that you should care; i just wanted you to know - Winterbourne - June 14, 2019
He never would have thought anyone would follow him. The touch startles the young Corten, drawing a snarl from him as he flinches and glances up with bloody teeth bared.
Don't —The rest of the words die in his throat as he realizes that it's Evergreen, and his chest tightens painfully.
Leave —Leave me alone, he tries to say, but he fails again, and he's left with a fragmented version of a sentiment he's always been far too terrified to express. Don't leave. He sucks in a breath, squeezing his eyes shut as if that might erase the scene from existence. He wishes he could.
RE: oh, it's not that you should care; i just wanted you to know - Evergreen - June 14, 2019
Crumbling down where he stands, Evergreen runs his cheek weakly against the shoulder. Begging that there be a breath, and when there is, mismatched green eyes flicker up, moving just enough to peer in wonder with tears refusing to halt their endless march.
Winter,he chokes, unable to say his mouthful of a name. Round ears press close to skull, he moves his muzzle to the silver man's cheek, desperately wanting to touch and reaffirm that despite damage being done—by Winterbourne's own doing—he is alive.