Re: The Battle Majestic (Round 1 - Bubble Universe)
02-21-2010, 08:21 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Drakenforge.
Even with his vocabulary, Wolf would not have been able to express his gratitude properly in any language, even his own. The bark-skin-leader Sen had helped him. The laws of the forrest told Wolf that as a wounded member of the pack, he was a liability. If he was prey he would be chosen to be hunted. He would be left to the back of the group and picked off as the others left him.
And yet, in an embodiment of the forrest itself, the law was changed. Help not just the Alpha, everyone.
Wolf finally released his mind to take in his situation. The blood rage he was in had subsided. No longer did every shadow have eyes and fangs and claws. He tasted blood, and not just his own. He, a creature that hunts for others, had attacked the tailless of the... fire.
Bile rose in Wolf's throat. Violance was not in his nature. To kill prey for survival was necessary to every creature in one way or another, yet he engaged in a fight not for teritory, a mate or food. It was... mindless!
Wolf turned his head to the side and vomited. A sickly tasting mixture caused Wolf to gag further, but found nothing left to throw up. His body tried to dry retch for a longer part of a minute before the compulsion subsided. His belly ached, his wounds stung, and he hated himself.
Slowly, he picked himself off of the floor, cautiosly trying out the bark crutch. It held, but wolf adopted a limp just for good measure. He made his way back over to the tailless youth.
He was slumped on his back against the thorns. Some protruded from his body, dripping blood slowly onto the ground. The... human, had his eyes closed. Wolf cautiosly sniffed the body.
He was not-breath.
Wolf stared long and hard at the wounds his fangs had caused. The red mixture of his blood ran down the taillesses neck. Wolf looked away. He wished he knew something of the taillesses, like their death rituals. Anything to repent for what wold did.
But, Wold knew there was something he could do.
So wolf sat upright, held his head into the sky, and howled the remorseful lamentation of death.
Back home, the howl would be repeated for miles around the forrest by every wolf, no matter the pack. It would scale mountains, cross rivers and show respect for the death of a hunter.
After the last long note died out, Wolf thought about what his day had been.
The long-pelt tailless. Inability to move.
There would be death.
There would be locations.
There would be...
A sudden burst of pain rocketed through Wolf's skull. He shut his eyes, attempting to drown out the pain.
It subsided just as fast as it had arrived. Whatever deep truth the tailless had said, if it even was truth, was locked outside of wolf's mind. There was, however, a slight tingling in his chest.
It felt like the longing he had to return to the den he had as a cub, only deeper, stronger. He wanted to go, but had no idea where.
So Wolf lay down, careful not to injure his paw, and shut his eyes.
Even with his vocabulary, Wolf would not have been able to express his gratitude properly in any language, even his own. The bark-skin-leader Sen had helped him. The laws of the forrest told Wolf that as a wounded member of the pack, he was a liability. If he was prey he would be chosen to be hunted. He would be left to the back of the group and picked off as the others left him.
And yet, in an embodiment of the forrest itself, the law was changed. Help not just the Alpha, everyone.
Wolf finally released his mind to take in his situation. The blood rage he was in had subsided. No longer did every shadow have eyes and fangs and claws. He tasted blood, and not just his own. He, a creature that hunts for others, had attacked the tailless of the... fire.
Bile rose in Wolf's throat. Violance was not in his nature. To kill prey for survival was necessary to every creature in one way or another, yet he engaged in a fight not for teritory, a mate or food. It was... mindless!
Wolf turned his head to the side and vomited. A sickly tasting mixture caused Wolf to gag further, but found nothing left to throw up. His body tried to dry retch for a longer part of a minute before the compulsion subsided. His belly ached, his wounds stung, and he hated himself.
Slowly, he picked himself off of the floor, cautiosly trying out the bark crutch. It held, but wolf adopted a limp just for good measure. He made his way back over to the tailless youth.
He was slumped on his back against the thorns. Some protruded from his body, dripping blood slowly onto the ground. The... human, had his eyes closed. Wolf cautiosly sniffed the body.
He was not-breath.
Wolf stared long and hard at the wounds his fangs had caused. The red mixture of his blood ran down the taillesses neck. Wolf looked away. He wished he knew something of the taillesses, like their death rituals. Anything to repent for what wold did.
But, Wold knew there was something he could do.
So wolf sat upright, held his head into the sky, and howled the remorseful lamentation of death.
Back home, the howl would be repeated for miles around the forrest by every wolf, no matter the pack. It would scale mountains, cross rivers and show respect for the death of a hunter.
After the last long note died out, Wolf thought about what his day had been.
The long-pelt tailless. Inability to move.
There would be death.
There would be locations.
There would be...
A sudden burst of pain rocketed through Wolf's skull. He shut his eyes, attempting to drown out the pain.
It subsided just as fast as it had arrived. Whatever deep truth the tailless had said, if it even was truth, was locked outside of wolf's mind. There was, however, a slight tingling in his chest.
It felt like the longing he had to return to the den he had as a cub, only deeper, stronger. He wanted to go, but had no idea where.
So Wolf lay down, careful not to injure his paw, and shut his eyes.