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+--- Thread: Redtail Rise I am the unreliable narrator of my own story. (/showthread.php?tid=59385)
I am the unreliable narrator of my own story. - Hypnos - January 16, 2024
When he woke again, he was standing on the edge of a cliff — but not the higher edge where the danger sat, Hypnos was poised in the shadow of the rise where he was only two glossy eyes in the dark.
How had he gotten here?
Where was here?
He remembered little of the previous moments in his life; this was normal for him, but still so unnerving.
RE: I am the unreliable narrator of my own story. - Saturdays Sunrise - January 16, 2024
patrolling, it was her best hobby yet, if one could call it that. leaving her calling card for the rise here and there, borders refreshed and lingering with a strong scent and promise of baring teeth should they be crossed. it was dark, colder, yet snow did not fall. sunrise had a harder time traveling where it became deeper, her bulkier body slowly becoming a hinderance.
though, she stops thinking of the cursed white powder as her nose brings another scent, fanning it like a hungry flame devouring the kindling and searching for its strength. pausing her tracks, she lifts, searching, pulling every detail around her. his smell was pungent, as if he were on top of her!
a rumbling growl leaves her, wondering if nearby ears may catch it. she does not see him, not yet at least.
asking for clarification! is he actually inside the rise, or lingering out? didn't wanna assume first in this post <3
RE: I am the unreliable narrator of my own story. - Hypnos - January 16, 2024
whoops! i meant he was below the physical rise of the earth, so that might be inside or outside the claim, and ill leave that up to you? i dont mind either way!
The man did not sleep well, if at all. His most recent bout of somnambulism had resulted in his body arriving here to this strange place, and so worn out; it was as if he had been running for a month without a break! But he could not have been; he could see even from this patch of darkness the distant mountain range, and if he squinted, imagined the willow forest nested somewhere southwest of his position.
Still, Hypnos wished he could remember.
His legs were sore. His head pounded and he felt a desperate need for water. As he looked around for signs of anything familiar he knew not to expect much, and that was when he heard a low warning sound from — well, he had turned around a lot in that moment, so he wasn't sure of that either.
Someone out there?Hypnos began to call, but his shout became something pinched, like the needle of a record skipping. He turned another direction and happened to face away from the onlooker.
'Course you're lost. And of course you dunno how you got here, idiot.He grumbled to himself.
RE: I am the unreliable narrator of my own story. - Saturdays Sunrise - January 16, 2024
there he was.
pale yellow eyes linger on the man's figure, she heard his words and felt a certain level of confusion about them. just what exactly was he doing out here anyways, at a time like this? surely any wold trying to join would come in and assert his position with a howl, an ask for an audience. and yet this one remained further away from the borders, turned around as if he truly didn't want to be there.
sunrise was growing and thus was her sense of perception. the girl enters in a quick jog, though her body position does not scream aggression, at least not yet. he was outside of the rise and therefore far away enough where she couldn't go after him with good conscience.
so she holds herself high in her silent approach, drawing closer until she stands at the invisible land that separates his wild life from her. redd's approach was carefully replicated in the way that flame stalker understood, and so she can only snort with a gruff tone, asking him in the primitive grumble,
"who are you? and why are you here?"
RE: I am the unreliable narrator of my own story. - Hypnos - January 16, 2024
His calling amounted to very little - or so he thought! As he turned and tried to focus enough to listen for a reply, there came only the sound of winter wind through the trees, and the falling of snow. He realized in that moment how isolated he was; and, for the first time in probably ever, he wasn't thinking about fire.
And then he saw her.
A strong-bodied, lissome creature who was at-home in the snow, but stared him down with moonshine eyes. The way she carried herself made Hypnos quiver (and he blamed that on the cold again).
Oh, uh, hi —
She seemed to be conveying some obvious cues, even to the sleep-deprived young man. Her questions were mirrored in ihs expression and the sinking of his own posture. He was alone, and while that was a status Hypnos had grown accustomed to, now he felt targeted and didn't know what to do.
Do you know where Hearthwood is? I'm supposed to be there, not here.
RE: I am the unreliable narrator of my own story. - Saturdays Sunrise - January 16, 2024
he seems to respect the distance to say the least, and for the moment sunrise is appeased. his voice seems quiet, soft, and easy on the ears. while she does her best to keep her wits about her, there is the fall of her tail into a more neutral position, conveying her own desire to keep the situation calm.
upon his question, she shakes her head. she had no idea what the land he hailed from was, as the girl had little sense of the true breadth of the wilds that surrounded the rise. however, that did not mean she lacked sense. tentatively, she steps forward, pushing her nose into the blank space between them, to taste the air he was from. perhaps then, she may garner some type of clue of his home.
she does her best to put on a more friendly air, the aggression and tautness in her body put to rest as a more... gentle curiosity comes to run along her features.
RE: I am the unreliable narrator of my own story. - Hypnos - April 08, 2024
He truly did not know what to do with the brief lucidity he had discovered, let alone with the voiceless stranger who stood before him. Its clear enough she's curious and he welcomes the curiosity, welcomes the closing of any distance due to being a physically greedy individual by default, but he doesn't hear an answer and that makes him pout a little bit.
Maybe she wasn't here? Wherever here was.
Oh, where else have I seen willow trees?He asks the air, as if the girl isn't there, since he's not sure.
He turns and studies the horizon one way, then another, turning in sad little circles until he trips himself up; then, he's half-squatting and his tail curls to his belly, more because he's forgotten he has one than for any fearful reason.
Shhh, maybe I can hear their weeping?And he cocks his head sideways, ears up as if there was a voice on the wind—but really there was nothing.