Stavanger Bay 22 (OVER S∞∞N)

@Rannoch

 

 
The great lumbering beast had struggled to drag the young boy from the wood to the coast. His intentions had been to pull him to the top of the nearby cliffs, but the injury to his shoulder was causing a great deal of pain to shoot down his limb. The titan would not allow himself to succumb to his weaknesses. He was determined to throw the child to the waters and to show the great ones that he had done everything they had ever asked of him...  
 
He did not understand why he was being punished.  
 
As the wraith moved toward his home and his claimed lands, he felt more secure with himself. The youth that he carried with him had since ceased his wriggling and escape-attempts. Skellige found that it was not so difficult to carry him once he had settled his limbs. Once the brute had struck the hard stone of the towering sentinels that rose alongside his claim, he breathed a sigh and plopped the pup to the ground.  
 
It was time for the drop.  

Consciousness had not come easily for Rannoch. After being struck against the rock he had fallen into a dark and cold world, drowning within its comforts. He only resurfaced as he was plopped against the ground. At first he did not move much and instead merely laid there as he opened his eyes for the first time since being abducted.

Though the horrors did not immediately rush back to him, but he felt a sense of urgency as he laid helplessly on the ground. A pain throbbed from the side of his head and he wondered why he was feeling this way.

The crashing of the waves also caught him off guard. Being the prince of the evergreens, Rannoch had never even heard of the ocean before and was further confused by the gentle rolling of the tides. As his awareness of his surroundings grew, Rannoch lifted his head and surveyed the area before his sight quickly fell upon the monster.

Memories flooded back to him as he looked at the hulking beast. His heart raced as it never had before and the hairs along his spine rose as a storm of emotions stewed within him.

Where was he? What happened to Lucy? How far from home was he? When could he escape? Was this Lucy’s monster?

So many thoughts overcame him and his ears lowered to his crown as said questions stuck around. He didn’t know how to voice his anger, frustration, fear, and helplessness and so he only offered one question in the midst of his inner storm.

“What do you want?” His words slipped through his gritted teeth as he attempted to talk through the worst of his physical and emotional pain.

here chan listen to this

 
The boy came to life with a rage-filled heart, and turned to glower upon Skellige with hateful turquoise eyes and a remark that was spoken through gritted teeth.  
 
There it was, he thought to himself with a cold curling of his lip. There was the rage – and the wraith was pleased to see it hold with such determination on the young lad's face. He would be certain to survive the drop. There would be no doubt that his silver-cloaked figure would wash ashore. Still, the child's question lingered in the air like a heavy fog. The leviathan did not feel as though he owed the young whelp an answer of any sort. Still, the memory of losing Sharkbait hung heavily over his mind, and the gashes that marked his shoulder were a constant reminder of the pain that he was to endure if he failed again to hold a child of the sea.  
 
Leaning forward, the brute furrowed his brows over his dark eyes and heaved a heavy breath through his nostrils so that the hot air plumed toward the young man's face. He wanted to know what Skellige wanted...  
 
"To baptize you," he gurgled with a quick lash of his tongue.  

His question hung there between them for quite a while almost to the point where it almost suffocated the prince of the evergreens. He couldn’t bare the silence that was between them and it only furthered this uncharastically strong sense of rage. It withered unapologetically within and caused every fibre of his being to tense.

Soon enough the hulking beast leaned into his face and in a single rancid breath spoke of Rannoch’s fate. The word meant nothing to the child and it only caused the line of his brow to darken.

“Baptize?” he spat as he continued to stare evil straight in the eyes.

 
The child drew another question forward, and the titan immediately knew that he had no knowledge of what was to happen to him. That did not perturb the brute. Instead of lashing out further, Skellige realized that his only option was to show the boy what was destined for him. He breathed deeply, feeling the breathe of the saline winds against his whiskers, and lurched forward.  
 
The strength was returned to him for a moment. He could feel the power of the sea surging beneath his taut limbs. The gust of wind that enforced his action only fueled him further. He could sense the beating of the black rock in his chest. It hummed like a drum of war. It begged to take the body of the child in it's mouth. Skellige would not deny it.  
 
With a swift motion, the leviathan plucked the child from the earth and gripped him between his fangs tightly. Moving forward, he felt his claws grip into the stone and the threw his head so that the pup was launched into the sky. The drop from the cliffs would be a terrifying feat, but one that was necessary. His soul told him so.   

No words met his question and rather a single, fluid motion. As the powerful Leviathan clamped down, Rannoch winced. But despite the pain he felt, he did not feel it for long. Just like his capturing, the dark monster was swift in his actions and sent the grey-scaled Frostfur from the safety of the cliffs and to the sea below. When he fully realized what was going on-- just as Skellige let go of him-- the boy’s eyes widened and he flailed helplessly as he plummeted to the restless seas below.

Anger, regret, sadness-- it all filled him and added to the weight that carried him down. It dragged him to the sea, let him break the surface, and sink below the surface. How his life had come to such an unfortunate ending was beyond him as he was will deeper by the current. The slap of the impact had allowed him to let all of his emotions go-- a sense of dullness filling him as water rushed into him lungs.

It was almost enough to end Rannoch Tiberous Frostfur’s short life.

Death willed him into a watery grave and lulled him to almost lose touch with the gravity of the situation. But, it seemed if the fire in his belly had not been fully quenched upon impact.

It ignited again as he grew weaker and gave him the necessary fuel he needed in that moment to fight for his life. Despite never swimming before, Rannoch lashed his limbs in an attempt to surface again. Despite the tide that destabilized him, Rannoch fought for his life with a series of determined strokes and eventually broke the surface as he gasped for air and attempted to expel some of the salty brine that had entered him.

By this point he was rather exhausted and disoriented by it all, Rannoch somehow made it ashore. Whether it was by his own doing or a willing from the sea itself, Rannoch would be truly sure of what kept him alive in his struggling. All that he did know was that he was alive.

Standing again of firm land, Rannoch pulled himself from the water onto unstable legs and quickly looked up to the Leviathan. He was far too tired to run, too confused on where he was to even comprehend how to get away, and all too driven to let this wolf get away with what he had done. Instead, the child lifted his tail and looked on with burning eyes. His previous questions were gone and a single thought occupied his mind: he would get his revenge on this wolf in time.

To demonstrate by example was the only means that he had of explaining to the boy. There were no doubts about his actions or the brash behavior that he had demonstrated. The brute was not a wordsmith; he was a savage creature of action and reaction. There was a pleasure in the great ceremony of the baptism. The winds tossed against him in applause and he rose his crown upward with a curling and wicked smirk. 

Rannoch had landed with a smack and plunged beneath the surface of the sea. Several heartbeats passed before he managed to emerge, fueled by the rage in his gut. The swarthy titan looked on with an unreadable expression on his dark features. It did not matter then that the woodland prince was enraged with the leviathan's actions. Time would allow for all wounds and his pride to heal and the lad would be grateful for the gift that had been bestowed upon him. 

Still, that glint in his youthful eyes spoke of the need for vengeance. With blood-colored eyes, Skellige did not break his sight from the child; he did not even react to the defiant lifting of the youth's tail. The warrior wanted him to feel that desire within him. He needed the drive before he would truly belong to the swell.