Redtail Rise i see the exodus of light
All Welcome  October 13, 2018, 05:33 PM
Silkie
Drageda
Kru
personality shift development thread. aside from the facial wounds i want silkie to have: there may be additional wounds; it depends on how the first thread goes. this thread is meant to be flexible so that additional wounds, etc can be added in later on if need be. :-)
vol. ii of fall of a sparrow plot

        there is a painful draw of breath that comes from the boy wedged against the a crevice at the rise's base, concealed by the deep emerald of a thick bush. it's twigs poke him in different places along his body as he curls in on himself. there is pain. and the defiant beating of his heart. they are his constant companions now. he does not remember how he's escaped or if the man'd let him go — maybe he was following him even now, allowing silkie the illusion of freedom. it doesn't matter to him at the moment. the pain is blinding and demanding until it is the only thought that consumes him. home. the juvenile wants to go home; back to the safety of drageda. away from the pain. but he knows that going home will not rewind time. it will not fix the wounds splicing across the flesh of his face. going home will not save him. he's met the monster and it's left it's mark upon him.

        he shifts, testing out his limbs one by one. nothing feels broken that he can tell but the wounds on his face pulse and throb with white hot pain until, despite his best efforts, it is all he thinks about.

        lost. of course he's lost, he scolds himself; he's never stepped foot outside of drageda's borders before. he doesn't know how to tend to the wounds, and they are left to cauterize on their own, occasionally tearing open. blood trickles down his pale fur, into his eyes where it burns and blurs his vision crimson. he can't hunt like this: in stinging agony and unable to see clearly.

        his stomach rumbles in hunger.

        slowly he pushes himself to shaking limbs. they are stiff from trying to make himself small. he's not small. not anymore. he almost tumbles back down but he presses himself tightly against the rock face at his side, using it for support as he smacks his lips together. he's hungry and his mouth is so dry. if nothing else he must find water. food ...he can scavenge from carcasses if need be. with vision partially compromised he must rely on his hearing to guide him to a body of water and thus relies upon it as he pushes off of the rough hewn rock and makes his way towards the heart of the half-burnt forest hoping that there is water untainted.

fall of a sparrow 2/3 threads 」
where he walks power unfolds,
untaming beasts, cracking temples
and unfettering hearts.
October 16, 2018, 05:48 PM
Tahani
IkKanattuk
Itchaksrat
it wasn't often that she moved away from the glacier, but Tahani had been so diligent in her herb-gathering that the supply in IkKanattuk's territory was dwindling. she began to sniff around the plains, looking for useful things. she wouldn't have even been drawn to the charred slope if a flash of pale movement hadn't drawn her eyes, and the distant yet still pungent smell of blood hadn't wafted past her nostrils.

the healer picked up the pace, ascending the hill at a decent speed until she drew close to the--oh, god, it was a pup. a young wolf, perhaps a moon or so older than Curri. the bleeding wretch wandered, looking for. . .for something--and Tahani gave a gentle whuff, hoping to capture the boy's attention without startling him.

"child," she crooned, forgetting her unfamiliar tongue in her worry. "let me tend to your wounds."

IkKanattuk players: Please tag Tahani in any threads that require medical attention!
October 17, 2018, 04:30 AM
Silkie
Drageda
Kru
        the gentle whuff travels through the air and the lost and wounded dragon draws in a sharp breath through his teeth. his steps cease in his desire for water and food is briefly overridden by the approach of another. his muscles all pull taunt beneath his blood stained and dirt streaked pelage.

        threat, threat, threat, threat ...!

        his hackles bristle along his spine and wounded lips curl back over his teeth briefly (the curling of his lips is painful to maintain after-all, increasing the blinding pain throbbing in his face as the action pulls at the wounds). as his head swings to face the woman with unparalleled hostility and aggression in both expression, and body language. it doesn't matter that she looks nothing like him. it doesn't matter how softly she croons to him — in a language he does not understand and cannot translate. she is an unknown and unknowns were never to be trusted. not ever.

        aggression and hostility might dominate his expression and body language but his light brown eyes once so warm and full of childish mirth are wild and feral with fear and pain. "nou sen yu fut daun nowe." he spits at her; the one and only warning he'll give. speaking is harder than he'd have thought it to be: his mouth is dry and the voice that comes from within him is raw and rough; changed with both the aging of his body and his trauma. it's been some time since he's used it ...or maybe it hasn't and it just feels like a lifetime ago.

        he tastes the metallic tang of his own blood but it's a taste he's gotten familiar with over the past ...however much time has passed. time is a loose concept to him now. the only thing that matters is water, food, getting home and surviving long enough for the former to become a reality.
"trigedasleng"

fall of a sparrow 2/3 threads 」
where he walks power unfolds,
untaming beasts, cracking temples
and unfettering hearts.