- Nov 17, 2022
- 7
- 5
- 3
I'VE TASTED BLOOD AND IT IS SWEET
mothpaw | 04 months | male | he/him | physically easy | mentally easy | attack in bold #6f4e37
mothpaw | 04 months | male | he/him | physically easy | mentally easy | attack in bold #6f4e37
Mothpaw doesn't mean to wander the way he does. Its passing curiosity - a simple wandering mind. A sudden distraction comes in the form of a fluttering moth, mesmerizing with its powder coated white wings, and when he loses sight of it the patrol has moved on without him. Wobbly limbs are hard enough to control on the best of days, and the brown furred boy can't seem to get them to comply. His surroundings are only vaguely familiar - nose scrunched up as he takes a deep breath, trying to find something, anything, to orient himself.
Aha! The stomach churning scent that is carrionplace is all to easy to find - and with it, likely the border on which he was supposed to be following. One lurching step at a time, he makes his way forwards until he can hear the steady trickle of the stream, the eerie rustle of the rubbish heaps. Beaming and giving a soft laugh, he darts forwards - copper toned eyes blown wide as he feels the sharp pain of his paw smacking into something.
Round and round he goes, head-over-tail, until he's a heap upon the ground. The world spins dizzily - black and red about the edges, and his head feels a bit wet he thinks, as he finally comes to a halt. Dazed expression flits about his face as he tries to get to gadget back up, only succeeding in flailing the first few times. Something doesn't feel right - was it always so dark? Stomach rolling, nose sniffling, he finally manages to stand - eyes fluttering weakly.
What is happening? He wants to go back - wants to go home. He wants his mother. Tears swell but fall short, never quite leaving his eyes. The sound of water splashing is the only warning as he collapses back down to earth, head lolling limply as his chest struggles to heave. In the silence of the morning, the water runs red and his body turns still, until suddenly he is not alone.
// this is private until @FLICKERFIRE and @Snailcurl. have both responded!
Aha! The stomach churning scent that is carrionplace is all to easy to find - and with it, likely the border on which he was supposed to be following. One lurching step at a time, he makes his way forwards until he can hear the steady trickle of the stream, the eerie rustle of the rubbish heaps. Beaming and giving a soft laugh, he darts forwards - copper toned eyes blown wide as he feels the sharp pain of his paw smacking into something.
Round and round he goes, head-over-tail, until he's a heap upon the ground. The world spins dizzily - black and red about the edges, and his head feels a bit wet he thinks, as he finally comes to a halt. Dazed expression flits about his face as he tries to get to gadget back up, only succeeding in flailing the first few times. Something doesn't feel right - was it always so dark? Stomach rolling, nose sniffling, he finally manages to stand - eyes fluttering weakly.
What is happening? He wants to go back - wants to go home. He wants his mother. Tears swell but fall short, never quite leaving his eyes. The sound of water splashing is the only warning as he collapses back down to earth, head lolling limply as his chest struggles to heave. In the silence of the morning, the water runs red and his body turns still, until suddenly he is not alone.
// this is private until @FLICKERFIRE and @Snailcurl. have both responded!
