Guest
Clear, slight northern wind     Spirited Highlands     Midnight

PRP I've screamed your name to the stars

Threaded Mode


Loner
Loner
Statistics
Species
Wolf

Sex
Male (AMAB - He/Him)

Age
5 (1/18/2021)

Height
Very Tall

Weight
Heavy

Build
Athletic

Eyes
Right golden and left blue

Fur
Blacks, grays, browns/russets

Oddities
Two contrasting colored eyes, very large, littered with scars on body and only one side of his face.

Mark of Mythris
None

Writer

Posts

Threads

Rating
3L - 3S - 3V
#1
This post is hidden due to the following trigger warning:
You can click to toggle this post:
[Image: 8bit-mint.png]

Entirely aware that desperately wishing upon the small lights twinkling in the sky above would not do anything to change circumstance, he still found himself lost beneath a sea of thousands of them, murmuring soft please to Gods that would not bend an ear to listen. Fragments of time, a crystal thrown in anger against a wall, smashed and scattered into a billion small shards that illuminated the dark pane of glass above his head, one that had felt as if that too could come smashing down upon him. He breathed a slow sigh, relaxing his weight further into his back, pushing into the ground below with the halfhearted hope that it would be forced to swallow him up if only pressed hard enough.

Within the murky depths of his gaze, their reflections glittered, a perfect mirror that exposed the hollowness that resided within. Maybe it was worse than just a hollowness. Maybe it was a void, dark and foreboding, one that snuffed out the light. Her light. His breath hitched. She had come clean to him, exposed her bloodied wounds to his eyes, his calloused hands, all for what? Beck swallowed, unable to tear away from the blackness of the sky above, paralyzed by it. Just like everything else that occurred outside of those white walls, castles they had built in the heavens, fantasies that would never be...they were completely and utterly helpless to stop it. What had he done then but expose her further to the elements? Doused her in salt water to rub into those open cuts? He blinked slowly, breathing another sigh. How many months would this be, where they stood upon the cusp of change, only for it to slip through their fingers like grains of sand?

Cradled within the springtime foliage, the long grass at his back held him steady as he reclined against the thin stocks. He was glad that it itched at his fur, thankful that the sensation brought with it some form of distraction. One paw lay across his abdomen, fingertips brushing over the silken strands of dark fur. The other had curled around the stem of a dandelion, delicately plucking at its petals absentmindedly as if pulling them from one side to the next would bring about clarity where none existed before. It did not though, nor could he expect such a small gesture to do anything of the sort.

Speech | Français

Ásny
Reply

The Winter Dragoness
Inactive Member
Statistics
Species
Wolf (Mixed)

Sex
Female (Female)

Age
2

Height
Very Tall

Weight
Heavy

Build
Stocky

Eyes
Aged whiskey

Fur
Everest Stormclouds

Scent
Snow & Winter Berries

Oddities
Protruding K-9's

Mark of Mythris
None


Posts

Threads

Gentle - Nurturing - Selfless - Affectionate - Sensitive - Adaptable
#2
This post is hidden due to the following trigger warning:
You can click to toggle this post:


Her legs nearly grew shaky from travel -- just how long had she traversed by now? Never in Asny's wildest dream's would she have imagined herself back where it all started, and certainly not after running away to abandon her previous life. Duskguard was her life for sometime -- yet like with most things in the owlet's life it never lasted. Null was the woman's purpose in a pack bustling with love and grandeur, and though Tiberius welcomed her like family, she couldn't have felt anymore useless.

In Asny's eyes, all her presence did was take up space, so it was best that she'd gone with the wind. It would probably be better that way. Yet the dragoness returned. Somewhere along the lines, her journey of self-discovery brought her wandering paws back to the lands of vivarium. Not too far astray was the north, but it had been days since the woman had actually gotten some rest (or sleep for that matter). Asny's path would have to be cut short in light of her inability to stand upright.

A soft -plap- sounded when her backside flattened the grass underneath it, and Sigurður made a loud screeching sound when he nearly caught impact with the floor. The woman turned her head to mouth a soundless 'I'm sorry', but the owl once perched on her back already flew away. Likely upset from almost being sat on, but surely he'll return later.

The sight of his fleeting form only led her to yet another, however, that lied just a couple feet away -- and from what she could see from her side, he was unmoving. Amber hued orbs slowly began to widen in shock at the lying man in the grass....was.....was he dead!?

[Image: 65825415_Fu3T4CJAoha1UnP.png]
"Common" | "Icelandic"

*Asny refers to herself in the 3rd person.
Reply




Forum Jump:


Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)