Flycatcher Downs in your pose as the dust settled around us;;
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Thoughts the boy wanted nothing to do with had begun to weigh down on him; flashes of the attack, of those haunting orange eyes. The moment he had thought the others weren't looking, he had run.

No, it was more than running; he was sprinting, fleeing for his life the way he hadn't done that night. As if it would erase what had happened. Alarian ran until his pads were bloody, until his legs ached and his chest heaved and burned with the effort, until the wounds on his side had ripped and begun to ooze. He didn't stop-- he couldn't stop, he couldn't, or he would get him again.

He collapsed on hard rock after a time, a trail of blood behind him, and panted hard. The boy didn't know where he was, where the others were; he would find his way back eventually. When the panic subsided.
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in your pose as the dust settled around us;; - by Alarian - January 16, 2018, 06:03 PM