Post by Rueff on Sept 4, 2014 7:17:59 GMT -6
 | HAVE YOU ANY IDEA HOW A RAVEN IS LIKE A WRITING DESK...? |
Matana
Cause there's absolutely nothing to roleplay in the meantime...
Rueff groaned, head throbbing like a jackhammer in his ear. How hard did he hit his head? He lifted his head and paused mid-breath, feeling something agonising dig into his lung, and he remembered the fight. Not specifically the rock, nor the previous Matana incident, but his stomach churned at the sight of the serrated shard jutting out from his side, prying apart his ribs. And his mind had lost clarity. That was good. When you couldn't think straight, don't think at all. Just be lulled by the sadistic voices.
And they told him to lean down and pull that darn rock from his side! So he curled around, teeth scaring on the stone, and he slowly tried removing it. Alas, the serrated edges were too much, and they were causing too much damage coming out then going in, so he stood and gave up. At least it was far enough out that he could breathe again.
The blood (probably too much of it) dripped in oozing scarlet droplets onto the ground. Onto a highway of scents. The scent of a wolf, whose name would not spring to mind, nor would her face. But he could smell the blood that pumped through her veins, and the tears in the soil - but those mattered awfully little. He craved seeing fear in another's eyes, so he head off. She mustn't have gone far, but the trail did smell faint, and he had been unconscious for a very long time.
But what better way to bounce back from a recent loss then to settle down for a decent meal?
He ended up walking for a longer time than expecting, weaving through trees and jumping over obstructions. Perhaps he had been walking half a day, until he saw a black silhouette. He grinned, licking his chops. He had lost a lot of blood, but his drunken-madness nerves kept forgetting to send the message of pain to his brain, which was not good but for now it was a blessing.
He stared at the shape, squinting, before realising it was just a shadow. But this was the end of the trail. He was hungry, and he craved watching one suffer so he had no other choice but raise his lips to the sky
"Oh, come out, come out wherever you are!"
Cause there's absolutely nothing to roleplay in the meantime...
Rueff groaned, head throbbing like a jackhammer in his ear. How hard did he hit his head? He lifted his head and paused mid-breath, feeling something agonising dig into his lung, and he remembered the fight. Not specifically the rock, nor the previous Matana incident, but his stomach churned at the sight of the serrated shard jutting out from his side, prying apart his ribs. And his mind had lost clarity. That was good. When you couldn't think straight, don't think at all. Just be lulled by the sadistic voices.
And they told him to lean down and pull that darn rock from his side! So he curled around, teeth scaring on the stone, and he slowly tried removing it. Alas, the serrated edges were too much, and they were causing too much damage coming out then going in, so he stood and gave up. At least it was far enough out that he could breathe again.
The blood (probably too much of it) dripped in oozing scarlet droplets onto the ground. Onto a highway of scents. The scent of a wolf, whose name would not spring to mind, nor would her face. But he could smell the blood that pumped through her veins, and the tears in the soil - but those mattered awfully little. He craved seeing fear in another's eyes, so he head off. She mustn't have gone far, but the trail did smell faint, and he had been unconscious for a very long time.
But what better way to bounce back from a recent loss then to settle down for a decent meal?
He ended up walking for a longer time than expecting, weaving through trees and jumping over obstructions. Perhaps he had been walking half a day, until he saw a black silhouette. He grinned, licking his chops. He had lost a lot of blood, but his drunken-madness nerves kept forgetting to send the message of pain to his brain, which was not good but for now it was a blessing.
He stared at the shape, squinting, before realising it was just a shadow. But this was the end of the trail. He was hungry, and he craved watching one suffer so he had no other choice but raise his lips to the sky
"Oh, come out, come out wherever you are!"
