+- 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: Hushed Willows rock bottom (/showthread.php?tid=65670)
rock bottom - Phobos - April 15, 2025
Laid upon the floor of the cave he now called home, Phobos stared at the light outside with an expression that spoke of nothing but his fatigue and agony. How long had he been here now? How long had it been since he felt the sun on his back, since he saw the face of Pepper?
For some time now Chaudry had been visiting, providing the minimal food and water necessary to keep him alive. Phobos was unsure why he would do such a thing, but he was convinced that if he sat through the purgatory of prolonged torture Chaudry was subjecting him to, that one day he would escape it. His legs would heal, his mind would clear, and he would be able to return to Sapphique, to the embrace of his lover.
But in recent months Chaudry's visits had become less frequent. He knew from his time in the mother pack that litters had likely been born, that the gurrier must be busy with borders. However weeks had passed by, and Phobos found that he was being left to rot. He was hungry, dry-mouthed, and worst of all losing hope.
He felt that he must finally be paying for what he did to Talos. His brother had loved him, even when the world did not. Phobos thought he was fair to kill him, an act of revenge for the broken body he had been cursed to. He was wrong. Now the world was taking from him the life he had built, the life with Pepper, the life away from Montagne. He was to die by the hand of the matriarche's daughter, to die under the watch of the héritière's son. But weak in his bones and flesh, Phobos refused to be weak-willed. Not now. If he were to die, he wished for it to be on his own terms.
Eyeing the many rocks surrounding him, a thought crossed his mind.
Do it now, do it now before he returns!
You won't make it back to him. Not in this life, Phobos.
They know you deserve to die. They know what you did, invalide.
You have nothing to lose.
When the internal voice he recognized to be his own quieted, he found he had dragged himself over to one of the rocks. It was big enough to cradle between his front legs. For a moment he stilled entirely, staring down as his life flowed through his mind in a series of love and tragedy. Using his remaining strength he lifted his head far up, forcing himself not to pause before throwing it downwards with all the momentum he could gather. It hit straight to the crown of his head.
He did not see the light that so many had spoken of. Only the dark red of his own blood before the world went dark.