Sleep was a restless affair.
Without the head of the witch, it felt as though his cursed life had only experienced a single, shining sliver of light in an otherwise dark existence. The blood on his tongue, all that remained of his hunt of the witch.
He was twitchy all evening, standing alone in a watch away from his father and siblings. His single eye roamed the distance for the witch, waiting for her black static form to rise from the dunes, to peel from the shadows. She was going to hunt them to the end of the world, it felt. But that was alright. It just gave Aquillius a chance.
But, eventually, he did sleep, sagging bonelessly to the sand as the days events caught up to him and left him shaking on the sand. It was almost a kindness, to sink into sleep. The witch would find him there but. He was not alone.
The cry of an eagle in the distance - I’m a border guard, this is the borders of a pack, you leave.
The scent of bobcat flooding his nose - Are we getting close to it yet? Well, how do you know? We might be right on top of it!
Rain. So much rain. - Aquillius!
The sea. Swallowing him whole.
Green eyes, charcoal back end, a familiarity born of hunting the same target. A jumble of memories he had forgotten, a face he needed to remember. Aquillius twitched and rolled in his sleep, but did not make a sound until the moment his eyes snapped wide and he rolled to his stomach with a lurching gasp. Any question from his family would go ignored as he stared out into the darkness, then stumbled into a run.
His family would go ignored again as he stumbled further away from them, near falling down a sand dune and laughing at the bottom.
A name he knew, a face he knew, a friend he knew. The bobcat was dead, but a new target wore its face.
Scipio.
Another laugh.
All he needed was to find Scipio. Then the witch wasn’t going to ever hurt him again.
Without the head of the witch, it felt as though his cursed life had only experienced a single, shining sliver of light in an otherwise dark existence. The blood on his tongue, all that remained of his hunt of the witch.
He was twitchy all evening, standing alone in a watch away from his father and siblings. His single eye roamed the distance for the witch, waiting for her black static form to rise from the dunes, to peel from the shadows. She was going to hunt them to the end of the world, it felt. But that was alright. It just gave Aquillius a chance.
But, eventually, he did sleep, sagging bonelessly to the sand as the days events caught up to him and left him shaking on the sand. It was almost a kindness, to sink into sleep. The witch would find him there but. He was not alone.
The cry of an eagle in the distance - I’m a border guard, this is the borders of a pack, you leave.
The scent of bobcat flooding his nose - Are we getting close to it yet? Well, how do you know? We might be right on top of it!
Rain. So much rain. - Aquillius!
The sea. Swallowing him whole.
Green eyes, charcoal back end, a familiarity born of hunting the same target. A jumble of memories he had forgotten, a face he needed to remember. Aquillius twitched and rolled in his sleep, but did not make a sound until the moment his eyes snapped wide and he rolled to his stomach with a lurching gasp. Any question from his family would go ignored as he stared out into the darkness, then stumbled into a run.
His family would go ignored again as he stumbled further away from them, near falling down a sand dune and laughing at the bottom.
Scipio.
A name he knew, a face he knew, a friend he knew. The bobcat was dead, but a new target wore its face.
Scipio.
Another laugh.
All he needed was to find Scipio. Then the witch wasn’t going to ever hurt him again.
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