August 04, 2020, 02:24 PM
Sorry this got so long!! It's been a moment since I've written him and it kinda all just spilled out
Aleister is breathing. His heart is beating, his muscles are working, his brain is...well his brain is doing as well as it can, what with all of the thoughts that choke his mind right now, but all this to say that Aleister is alive.
He's not sure how long he'll be able to say that.
Well, maybe that's a bit dramatic. Okay, it's possible that that is quite dramatic, but that's not to say his point doesn't stand (somewhat). Because although the little ghost (much to his surprise) hasn't faced any imminent threat to his life yet, he's not sure how long his luck will last. And that's exactly what the means to his survival had been so far, luck. The realization was exactly where the fear clawing its way up his throat had begun. See, it had begun with a sense of pride that he'd managed to keep himself alive so long, only for him to realize that there was no real survival skill he'd possessed that'd allowed him to continue living. He had just been lucky enough to have only stumbled upon benevolant creatures so far. He hadn't a damn clue what he would do if he met someone with bad intentions, nor how to avoid such an encounter. So, really, what had he to be proud of?
It is just as he was pondering the fact that never before had he cursed luck itself so much that a flicker of motion in the corner of his eyes catches the wisp's attention. His heart seizing in his chest near-violently, the wolfdog's body is whipped in the direction of the disturbance. His breaths come in short, rapid puffs as he registers exactly what he's seeing.
It's a wolf- he thinks.
Well, he'd be sure if it weren't moving so miserably; Aleister supposes he might have some sort of...preconcieved notions about wolves. He's yet to have encountered one since his departure (save for possibly this one), but tales enough to fill his head with ideas of them for many nights were told to him throughout his childhood- his heart twinges at the memory of listening to stories- ones of powerful beasts with great majesty and agility. It had been something that he'd been proud of in fact, back in the village, to have been descended from creatures who were considered to be so elegant and imposing...
This creature is not elegant or imposing. At all.
The young man considers running, getting himself as far away from the disastrous chase that is the (wolf?) and its prey, but he's completely frozen in place. He's not sure if it's shock, or horror, or simply curiousity, but Aleister cannot bring himself to move a muscle. Instead, he waits and watches and tries not to get himself close enough to be killed, but there's something in him telling him he's going to be just fine.
After all, his luck hasn't failed him yet.
He's not sure how long he'll be able to say that.
Well, maybe that's a bit dramatic. Okay, it's possible that that is quite dramatic, but that's not to say his point doesn't stand (somewhat). Because although the little ghost (much to his surprise) hasn't faced any imminent threat to his life yet, he's not sure how long his luck will last. And that's exactly what the means to his survival had been so far, luck. The realization was exactly where the fear clawing its way up his throat had begun. See, it had begun with a sense of pride that he'd managed to keep himself alive so long, only for him to realize that there was no real survival skill he'd possessed that'd allowed him to continue living. He had just been lucky enough to have only stumbled upon benevolant creatures so far. He hadn't a damn clue what he would do if he met someone with bad intentions, nor how to avoid such an encounter. So, really, what had he to be proud of?
It is just as he was pondering the fact that never before had he cursed luck itself so much that a flicker of motion in the corner of his eyes catches the wisp's attention. His heart seizing in his chest near-violently, the wolfdog's body is whipped in the direction of the disturbance. His breaths come in short, rapid puffs as he registers exactly what he's seeing.
It's a wolf- he thinks.
Well, he'd be sure if it weren't moving so miserably; Aleister supposes he might have some sort of...preconcieved notions about wolves. He's yet to have encountered one since his departure (save for possibly this one), but tales enough to fill his head with ideas of them for many nights were told to him throughout his childhood- his heart twinges at the memory of listening to stories- ones of powerful beasts with great majesty and agility. It had been something that he'd been proud of in fact, back in the village, to have been descended from creatures who were considered to be so elegant and imposing...
This creature is not elegant or imposing. At all.
The young man considers running, getting himself as far away from the disastrous chase that is the (wolf?) and its prey, but he's completely frozen in place. He's not sure if it's shock, or horror, or simply curiousity, but Aleister cannot bring himself to move a muscle. Instead, he waits and watches and tries not to get himself close enough to be killed, but there's something in him telling him he's going to be just fine.
After all, his luck hasn't failed him yet.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。We accept the love we think we deserve .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
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Messages In This Thread
How far I would not go - by Āzon - August 03, 2020, 09:47 PM
RE: How far I would not go - by Aleister - August 04, 2020, 02:24 PM
RE: How far I would not go - by Āzon - August 04, 2020, 03:39 PM
RE: How far I would not go - by Aleister - August 05, 2020, 03:55 PM
RE: How far I would not go - by Āzon - August 11, 2020, 01:19 PM
RE: How far I would not go - by Aleister - August 11, 2020, 02:39 PM
RE: How far I would not go - by Āzon - August 11, 2020, 04:07 PM