Bramblepoint my sweet torment

the ripples from his paw seemed to darken the water in an ominous foreboding, but he thought little of it. he tried again, a splash to the stream's surface sending droplets to litter the pebbled bank. she just stared, and then she spoke. 

he knew not of god, but her words were sharpened like a knife, and he felt the prickle of distrust slither it's way up his spine. 

nobody cares about your idea. you're just a child. ears slipped back to press flat against his crown as his brow contorted to wrinkled disapproval. 

if you drowned right now, no one would care. he did not take her words as close to heart as he should have. he thought her mean. he should have thought her vicious. 

"you are not nic-" his sentence ended with a searing scream. it came not of pain, only fear as the sight of jaws enveloped his vision. 

this was not the same as when he sparred with maggak. this was not playing.

he cried out as the unholy sting of her teeth found his scruff. nails dug into the earth and he felt the surge of adrenaline spike his blood like a drug. he pulled against her grip. 

he did not care if her teeth tore flesh from him, he knew only that he wished to be away from her. far, far away.