the sleeping dragon has become a haunt of ezra's as of late, where he goes in an effort to escape those ever pressing demons; unseen hellhounds always nipping on his heels. if Yahweh's grace was a kiss placed upon his brow, it was the only thing keeping from the princes of hell from consuming him. of sinking their teeth into his flesh.
or perhaps it was simply the distraction that stalking the mountain goats offered. he spent hours still and observant as he watched their movements: watching how they moved on what appeared to him to be sheer cliff, where they grazed and where they went to sleep.
he was not confident enough to think he could try to take one, despite how he strategically considers how each piece of it might be useful.
he spends his morning now, watching. waiting. wondering if mountain goats were blessed with ethereal grace or if they could fall victim to missteps — whilst secretly hoping the latter would happen.
or perhaps it was simply the distraction that stalking the mountain goats offered. he spent hours still and observant as he watched their movements: watching how they moved on what appeared to him to be sheer cliff, where they grazed and where they went to sleep.
he was not confident enough to think he could try to take one, despite how he strategically considers how each piece of it might be useful.
he spends his morning now, watching. waiting. wondering if mountain goats were blessed with ethereal grace or if they could fall victim to missteps — whilst secretly hoping the latter would happen.
'cause dead men don't talk
buried under that hideaway
lone star brand i′m
burning it on my chest
buried under that hideaway
lone star brand i′m
burning it on my chest
December 23, 2024, 10:56 AM
With @Gideon behind him Anselm tracked Ezra to a lone outcropping of stone. Pale silhouettes in the distance moved up and down the steep scaling. Anselm did not marvel after the wonders of goats and their vertical climbing ability; his sights were set upon his son.
Ever since he’d returned from the Isles Anselm wrestled with his sense of duty. He had seen that Saatsine was not the place for them; he did not want his boys to grow up lean with desperation and always chasing hunger. He wanted stability, and order, and frankly, an easy life that could not be had endlessly pursuing gamine prey animals that could run some forty miles an hour.
And seeing Ezra now, and noting that distant look on his face, Anselm knew what must be done.
Ever since he’d returned from the Isles Anselm wrestled with his sense of duty. He had seen that Saatsine was not the place for them; he did not want his boys to grow up lean with desperation and always chasing hunger. He wanted stability, and order, and frankly, an easy life that could not be had endlessly pursuing gamine prey animals that could run some forty miles an hour.
And seeing Ezra now, and noting that distant look on his face, Anselm knew what must be done.
Ezra.He motioned for both of them to stand close, his voice hushed and barely concealing the wretched anxiety he felt to breathe such life into his thoughts.
Ve vill be leaving Saatsine.And though he was the father and therefore saddled with the responsibility of their lives, he wanted them to know that he was not a tyrant.
Ve must do so quietly. It is no place for two young boys to grow.
December 25, 2024, 02:10 PM
his father's voice startles ezra out of the trancelike reverie he'd sunk himself into. he starts, whipping his head 'round so that his gaze rests upon his father and at his shoulder, his brother. for a moment sheepishness settles into ezra's facial expression, only to melt the moment he realizes he isn't being chided for not paying attention to anything beyond the goats ...
instead, he is being called in hushed tones to leave the sun clan.
and because it was not really home and his desire to stay close to anselm and gideon — the only family he had left now — he offers a solemn but sage nod of understanding.
instead, he is being called in hushed tones to leave the sun clan.
and because it was not really home and his desire to stay close to anselm and gideon — the only family he had left now — he offers a solemn but sage nod of understanding.
vill they follow us?asks ezra in equally hushed tones, wondering if their disappearance would be consequential enough to matter.
'cause dead men don't talk
buried under that hideaway
lone star brand i′m
burning it on my chest
buried under that hideaway
lone star brand i′m
burning it on my chest
Would they?
Truthfully, Anselm could not say. He had seen enough evil in the Saatsine leader's eye to know nothing was past him.
He searched his mind for places that would be safe. But no place was safe, was it?
Truthfully, Anselm could not say. He had seen enough evil in the Saatsine leader's eye to know nothing was past him.
He searched his mind for places that would be safe. But no place was safe, was it?
I do not know. I hope not.He tried to sound confident so his boys could not see that their father was losing every bit of himself, including his courage. He ruffled Gideon's head, then Ezra's, gaze turning to the startled goats.
Ve should leave now - is there anything back at camp you need?
January 04, 2025, 09:43 AM
while clearly truthful, his father's answer was admittedly not the delusional one that ezra'd been hoping for. no, they will not follow us would've been preferable ... but ezra'd learned long ago that life wasn't fair and delusions fed false hope.
which brings to the forefront of his mind: what kind of wolves were the unclean really and truly?
it forces him to realize that he really knows nothing about them: partially his own fault for choosing to stick close to his father and brother.
he preens slightly against the ruffle of the fur atop his head but sobers up in the next moment.
which brings to the forefront of his mind: what kind of wolves were the unclean really and truly?
it forces him to realize that he really knows nothing about them: partially his own fault for choosing to stick close to his father and brother.
he preens slightly against the ruffle of the fur atop his head but sobers up in the next moment.
no, i have nothing.he looks to gideon then before his gaze moves back to anselm where it rests.
i'm ready.
'cause dead men don't talk
buried under that hideaway
lone star brand i′m
burning it on my chest
buried under that hideaway
lone star brand i′m
burning it on my chest
January 09, 2025, 11:10 AM
OOC: Please skip me, I just want it in my threadlog. <3
In spite of his brush with Isra, Gideon had led a pretty comfortable life. He had not seen the things his brother had in the mountains or known the harshness of the world like his father. The worst thing that had ever happened was the loss of his mother, and its effect on him was profound.
Previously rambunctious, talkative, and even a little jocular, Gideon had grown taciturn and introspective. Observant as always, in his own distractible way, but in a melancholic fashion rather than the eagerness of before. In time, he had realized that the strength Sun Eater promised him was not the strength he imagined it was. There would be no sharpening of teeth and skills in preparation to cut down the spotted devil that lingered in his dreams even now.
Sun Eater's strength was the strength of a great hunter, and Gideon found that caribou meat tasted like the ashes of his homeland, and he could find little pleasure in the nomadic life they carved with the Saatsine.
He followed Anselm silently to the dormant volcano where Ezra watched the goats. Gideon's gaze lingered on them, how they seemed to float effortlessly up and down the sheer mountainside, while his father and brother spoke. When Anselm asked if there was anything to retrieve, Gideon answered with a quiet,
He had herbs that he had idly gathered while watching caribou from afar, but there would always be more herbs. The Saatsine could keep those. They could consider it some meager payment, Gideon naively thought, for their time with them.
In spite of his brush with Isra, Gideon had led a pretty comfortable life. He had not seen the things his brother had in the mountains or known the harshness of the world like his father. The worst thing that had ever happened was the loss of his mother, and its effect on him was profound.
Previously rambunctious, talkative, and even a little jocular, Gideon had grown taciturn and introspective. Observant as always, in his own distractible way, but in a melancholic fashion rather than the eagerness of before. In time, he had realized that the strength Sun Eater promised him was not the strength he imagined it was. There would be no sharpening of teeth and skills in preparation to cut down the spotted devil that lingered in his dreams even now.
Sun Eater's strength was the strength of a great hunter, and Gideon found that caribou meat tasted like the ashes of his homeland, and he could find little pleasure in the nomadic life they carved with the Saatsine.
He followed Anselm silently to the dormant volcano where Ezra watched the goats. Gideon's gaze lingered on them, how they seemed to float effortlessly up and down the sheer mountainside, while his father and brother spoke. When Anselm asked if there was anything to retrieve, Gideon answered with a quiet,
no, nothing.
He had herbs that he had idly gathered while watching caribou from afar, but there would always be more herbs. The Saatsine could keep those. They could consider it some meager payment, Gideon naively thought, for their time with them.
Archiving: I archive threads after 4 weeks without a reply, feel free to do likewise!
Common knowledge: Packmates may know my character's name and general appearance.
IC conflict: I prefer to determine a victor via a single dice roll, no trade buffs.
Plotting: I'm open to light OOC plotting but prefer organic IC development.
Powerplay: I welcome minor powerplay to smooth out interactions, such as assuming my character is already on scene. Please ask for major assumptions.
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January 16, 2025, 05:35 PM
He is a pisspoor father that both his sons are so insolvent they have no belongings in which to collect before they leave.
He swallows the burn in the back of his throat, eyes climbing to where the goats shuffled on seemingly impossibly steep cliff faces. As Ezra smoothed out his fur and the two boys exchanged a look, Anselm let his mind briefly wander.
Where was Etienne these days?
Like a creature hunted, Anselm heads for thick undergrowth.
He swallows the burn in the back of his throat, eyes climbing to where the goats shuffled on seemingly impossibly steep cliff faces. As Ezra smoothed out his fur and the two boys exchanged a look, Anselm let his mind briefly wander.
Where was Etienne these days?
Then we leave now. Come.Anselm announced with a sweep of his tail, taking in a deep breath and getting his bearings. Last he had seen, the wolves of Saatsine had been out afield.
Like a creature hunted, Anselm heads for thick undergrowth.
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