06-30-2021, 06:52 PM
(This post was last modified: 06-30-2021, 10:25 PM by Misha. Edited 2 times in total.)
Misha
"And can't you see all the flowers dying all around you?
Got your hands in the devil's pockets
Got everything to lose
And so you lash out
To crush the ones below
Or all the ones that you fear most
And you call this crowd control
Well, let me break it down for you..."
"And can't you see all the flowers dying all around you?
Got your hands in the devil's pockets
Got everything to lose
And so you lash out
To crush the ones below
Or all the ones that you fear most
And you call this crowd control
Well, let me break it down for you..."
Misha trudged glumly along the woods on this pleasant evening as the sky burst from colors while the sun sunk. He had awoken far from home with a start. No one to dote on him at his every whim. But worse of all, still no mama. Misha soon came upon a small stream, the tranquil sound of water moving dominated the air. As he looked at his dishevel appearance, his normally well-maintained fur a myth of the past, it was the sight of his eyes that caused him to break down. Green, just like mothers. His first time of true solitude, away from his usual routine in a strange unknown world, and the fact that his mother was no longer living. He couldn't take it anymore. The normally energetic and cheeky wolf was nowhere to be seen. He wept, and wept.
The other day, she had been alive and well and then she suddenly told him she could not breathe. Her heart stopped, cardiac arrest. Though he did not know the diagnosis. To him she just suddenly wilted away. A beautiful flower, crushed in an instant. And he would never see her again because he had committed the gravest sin of all. He had killed another. Damnation awaited him, not the afterlife where his mother was now roaming. He knew this would happen, but he thought he would have more time, more warning, before she would wither. He was suppose to be the messiah, right? Then what kind of punishment was this?! He felt oddly vulnerable, a feeling he had never felt before. And anger. Towards those he had pledge spiritual allegiance too. How dare they take from the messiah.
His weeping turned into wailing before finalizing into a blood-curdling snarl. Feeling this boiling anger, he started biting at the water at his reflection erratically, wanting to sank his fangs into anything, just anything. But no matter how hard he tried, the water just slipped through his fangs. "Give her back, give her back!" He repeatedly spat as he spent his energy on his undead foe. If one were in the area they would surly hear the ruckus that had erupted in the trees.
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