Silvertip Mountain Don't look. Hide (mtr.)

SETTING: Late afternoon
Weather: Overcast, heavily raining.
TERRITORY: Silvertip mountain: Glass Cave
TAGS: @Ithrik

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: Gore. Grooming. Possible rape. Horrible nastiness. It's Ithrik.

He lays curled within the farthest depths of the shining cave, his small body tucked within himself in a last effort to provide a false sense of security. Light filters through the entrance, reflecting off the crystallized rock around him, painting him in a hue of gold and pink fit for someone other than him. It had mesmerized the boy, pulling him into it's embrace of warming light and settling his shaken mind and heart.

Moonspear. Merrit.

His leg lays beside him, throbbing with pain, ripped open at his inner thigh as a reminder of his foolishness. Blood had dried, sealing the wound for now, though beneath his tattered fur it laid too fresh, too new and it threatened to reopen with the slightest movement. It had already spilled enough, caking his leg and leaving a rather impressive trail—an arrow to where he now seeked refuge.

He groaned, his body still protesting the days earlier events. The rush of adrenaline had taken his energy, zapping him of his strength and leaving him like a tossed rag. His limbs felt like bricks, his head numb and body cold.

He shivered at the temperature, the breeze that swept in from the mouth of the cave to cool his bones and make him aware as it's claws ripped into his wound and cut through his soft coat. It tired him more, and with everything weighing down on him he was forced to close his eyes and and submit to the sleep that called to him.