stupid, stupid, STUPID —
the wayward redhawk raged at nothing and everything all at once. he tore at the earth with needling puppy teeth, oblivious to the taste of earthy verdure caking his mouth.
it wasn't fair.
they were supposed to care about him. they were supposed to find him. but they hadn't, and the reality of abandonment was starting to grip peregrine like a vice tightening around his chest. the more he thought about the warm embrace of his mother and the gentle rasp of his father's voice, the more keenly he felt their absence. the more he felt stupid for wanting it. he wasn't a baby anymore, so he didn't really need that kind of comfort. but his parents should have wanted to give it anyway. they should have loved him enough to try. and they didn't.
so the war raged on in the tempestuous boy, a vicious clash between aching feelings of neglect and budding resentment toward the desire that led him to such hurt. he only wanted to feel loved, but that want had brought him to this — this feeling like he couldn't quite breathe, like the world was closing in around him. not that he really understood any of the war raging in his head. in fact, his thoughts were much simpler than the true depth of the feeling —
it was stupid, and he hated it.
with a weak snarl, he turned his hurt-fueled rage toward the nearest bush. ripping up grass and moss and dirt just wasn't satisfying. the branches snapped and tore at his mouth, flying in all directions, and finally he felt some relief. maybe it was the destruction that scratched the itch — or maybe he just needed to hurt on the outside as much as he did on the inside.
the wayward redhawk raged at nothing and everything all at once. he tore at the earth with needling puppy teeth, oblivious to the taste of earthy verdure caking his mouth.
it wasn't fair.
they were supposed to care about him. they were supposed to find him. but they hadn't, and the reality of abandonment was starting to grip peregrine like a vice tightening around his chest. the more he thought about the warm embrace of his mother and the gentle rasp of his father's voice, the more keenly he felt their absence. the more he felt stupid for wanting it. he wasn't a baby anymore, so he didn't really need that kind of comfort. but his parents should have wanted to give it anyway. they should have loved him enough to try. and they didn't.
so the war raged on in the tempestuous boy, a vicious clash between aching feelings of neglect and budding resentment toward the desire that led him to such hurt. he only wanted to feel loved, but that want had brought him to this — this feeling like he couldn't quite breathe, like the world was closing in around him. not that he really understood any of the war raging in his head. in fact, his thoughts were much simpler than the true depth of the feeling —
it was stupid, and he hated it.
with a weak snarl, he turned his hurt-fueled rage toward the nearest bush. ripping up grass and moss and dirt just wasn't satisfying. the branches snapped and tore at his mouth, flying in all directions, and finally he felt some relief. maybe it was the destruction that scratched the itch — or maybe he just needed to hurt on the outside as much as he did on the inside.
ic date: 06/21/2021
Buzzard was like a pup magnet or something. Seriously, this was like the second one in—one month? three? five?—however long it’s been since Sparky. And this one actually wanted to follow them which was so goddamn baffling. This kid clearly didn’t like them. He’d keep some distance between them, and anytime Buzzard tried to start some chit-chat he’d give them a shit ton of attitude. Like, damn ok, rude. But honestly they probably deserved it. They went out of their way to annoy him a couple times. Ok maybe more than a couple. It was more like every five minutes, and it’s only been a day. Buzzard almost felt sorry for the kid, but hey, this is what he signed up for when he decided to tag along.
Despite the kid being a bit of a thorn in their side, Buzzard had yet to abandon him on someone’s doorstep. It was nice to piss off someone that could talk back for a change. Extra points when that someone can’t beat them to a pulp.
Where was that kid anyway? He probably slipped off when Buzzard was going on and on about some nonsense. Unfortunately for him, they noticed his absence before they walked too far, and they headed back in the direction of their scent.
When they caught up to him, he seemed more angry than before. Buzzard watched his bush assault afar with a grin. There was no way they’d get caught in the cross fire. Once he was finished with his rampage they leaped out of their hiding place.
Despite the kid being a bit of a thorn in their side, Buzzard had yet to abandon him on someone’s doorstep. It was nice to piss off someone that could talk back for a change. Extra points when that someone can’t beat them to a pulp.
Where was that kid anyway? He probably slipped off when Buzzard was going on and on about some nonsense. Unfortunately for him, they noticed his absence before they walked too far, and they headed back in the direction of their scent.
When they caught up to him, he seemed more angry than before. Buzzard watched his bush assault afar with a grin. There was no way they’d get caught in the cross fire. Once he was finished with his rampage they leaped out of their hiding place.
Ha! You sure showed that bush who’s boss.Buzzard sat by another not-dead one and leaned towards it to whisper,
Better watch out man, I think you’re next.
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