03-09-2021, 07:16 AM
(This post was last modified: 03-09-2021, 07:23 AM by Valk. Edited 1 time in total.)
The boy prince remembered dying.
He remembered watching his blood mix with the rain and dribble down in rivers from where he lay, too exhausted, and wounded to rise again. His sides gave shuddering heaves with each increasingly tremulous breath, pulse fluttering erratically like a misfiring piston. A gentle tongue ran across his brow; a final, tender farewell from the wolf who bested him—who took pity on the dying son of Everto, and bid him one last kindness unto the afterlife. Adonis blinked away the rain as a howl went up, but it did not belong to his own. His father was dead, and the rest routed... or worse.
His fleeting pulse skipped, and his heart stuttered. Dead...?
I...
"Kk-rrak—! Boy, boy! Wolf!"
"Wolf, wolf!"
Adonis stirred, sending the trio of ravens winging into the eaves with a whisper of feathers, and excitable chatter between the murder. His head ached terribly, and his body fared little better. He didn't sense sunlight behind his eyes, and chanced opening them to survey his surroundings. Great coniferous trees stretched high into the canopy, blotting out direct light save for the occasional dappling of sunlight speckled across the needle-litter. Above the trio flit and fussed between themselves. A fog hovered around the bases, clinging to the spires as if the trees themselves were casting nets across the forest floor. One squat ear twitched toward the ravens as one hopped from the branch, gliding down to land just out of reach.
"Boy! Long sleep, good rest? Bring food?"
Tarnished eyes stared blankly for several odd moments. He couldn't recall the ravens of the Peak speaking to them on the regular, or at all, but he supposed it wasn't impossible. He lifted his head further, and angled his nose toward the curious bird. "I... suppose," he blinked. Long rest? Realization dawned, and Adonis nearly choked on his next words as he hurried to get them out. "Is this the afterlife?"
The raven blinked thrice before bursting into a series of raucous cackles, his throat feathers flaring. "Silly wolfboy, hit your head, hmm? Rakka have medicine for headpain, but we tradetrade, yes? Food first, chicklings hungry!"
He chewed on his inner-cheek. There was no telling if the raven was sincere in his offer, or if... raven-medicine could help his headache. But he didn't want to make an enemy of the ravenclan, either. Not so soon after—
Where was Nova Mountain anyway? Was this it? Had he lived after all? His father, the Evertos? It did not smell of the summit, nor the trees at her base, or the wolf whom he had fought tooth and claw with. Perhaps Rakka could provide him with more than just medicine.
"I will hunt for you," Adonis murmured as he collected himself, and pushed off the ground to stand tall above Rakka.
"Yes, yes!" Rakka exclaimed, alighting to Adonis' nape. He felt the talons clutch harmlessly at the excess skin but he didn't shake his companion off. "We help, we see. Gobblegoos that way! Slow, fat, densedumbs!" Rakka added, bobbing up and down as he faced eastward.
The boy prince broke off into a trot, shadowed by the trio of ravens, ignoring the dull ache in his chest.
An hour later found the four of them sated by a feast of turkey, fattened by the recent bounty of spring thaw. Adonis lounged half-upright, cradled by the ancient roots radiating outward from one of the oldest trees in the forest, with his rear legs stretched out to account for his full belly. The towering sentinel, and her long branches, did not tolerate other trees within her space, and thus she was all but the crown of the small clearing—completely unique, and entirely without equal. Adonis' craned his neck back until he nearly toppled to peer up through the boughs, watching as Rakka's wife—distinguishable by the odd splotch of white on her chest—fussed over their hatchlings. A few shiny baubles hung from the branches to entertain the children and, as Adonis suspected, the adults, too. The other members of Rakka's family—fifteen in total—milled about nearby conversing, picking at the carcass, or cleaning their beaks on the branches. The family had lived here for nearly a four-hundred moon-turns.
"Donnyboy, Rakka bring headhurt medicine. Eat, eat," Rakka exclaimed as he fluttered down to a root above, and passed the herbs clutched in his foot into his beak.
Adonis hesitated until his avian friend gave a quork of impatience. He tilted his head back and opened his mouth, letting Rakka place the herbs on his tongue with surprising care. The tasted was as he expected: absolutely terrible. But he quickly swallowed, and bent to tear a strip of turkey meat from what remained of the game. He was reminded of Lydia. The hurt came roaring back, and traitorous tears pricked the corners of his eyes. His father, Lydia, Cyril—what was he going to do now? His gaze fell, landing on his paws. They were larger than his father's were now. He was larger than his father now. And yet he was nothing compared to him.
Nothing without him. So who was he now?
the staff team luvs u
He remembered watching his blood mix with the rain and dribble down in rivers from where he lay, too exhausted, and wounded to rise again. His sides gave shuddering heaves with each increasingly tremulous breath, pulse fluttering erratically like a misfiring piston. A gentle tongue ran across his brow; a final, tender farewell from the wolf who bested him—who took pity on the dying son of Everto, and bid him one last kindness unto the afterlife. Adonis blinked away the rain as a howl went up, but it did not belong to his own. His father was dead, and the rest routed... or worse.
His fleeting pulse skipped, and his heart stuttered. Dead...?
I...
"Kk-rrak—! Boy, boy! Wolf!"
"Wolf, wolf!"
Adonis stirred, sending the trio of ravens winging into the eaves with a whisper of feathers, and excitable chatter between the murder. His head ached terribly, and his body fared little better. He didn't sense sunlight behind his eyes, and chanced opening them to survey his surroundings. Great coniferous trees stretched high into the canopy, blotting out direct light save for the occasional dappling of sunlight speckled across the needle-litter. Above the trio flit and fussed between themselves. A fog hovered around the bases, clinging to the spires as if the trees themselves were casting nets across the forest floor. One squat ear twitched toward the ravens as one hopped from the branch, gliding down to land just out of reach.
"Boy! Long sleep, good rest? Bring food?"
Tarnished eyes stared blankly for several odd moments. He couldn't recall the ravens of the Peak speaking to them on the regular, or at all, but he supposed it wasn't impossible. He lifted his head further, and angled his nose toward the curious bird. "I... suppose," he blinked. Long rest? Realization dawned, and Adonis nearly choked on his next words as he hurried to get them out. "Is this the afterlife?"
The raven blinked thrice before bursting into a series of raucous cackles, his throat feathers flaring. "Silly wolfboy, hit your head, hmm? Rakka have medicine for headpain, but we tradetrade, yes? Food first, chicklings hungry!"
He chewed on his inner-cheek. There was no telling if the raven was sincere in his offer, or if... raven-medicine could help his headache. But he didn't want to make an enemy of the ravenclan, either. Not so soon after—
Where was Nova Mountain anyway? Was this it? Had he lived after all? His father, the Evertos? It did not smell of the summit, nor the trees at her base, or the wolf whom he had fought tooth and claw with. Perhaps Rakka could provide him with more than just medicine.
"I will hunt for you," Adonis murmured as he collected himself, and pushed off the ground to stand tall above Rakka.
"Yes, yes!" Rakka exclaimed, alighting to Adonis' nape. He felt the talons clutch harmlessly at the excess skin but he didn't shake his companion off. "We help, we see. Gobblegoos that way! Slow, fat, densedumbs!" Rakka added, bobbing up and down as he faced eastward.
The boy prince broke off into a trot, shadowed by the trio of ravens, ignoring the dull ache in his chest.
An hour later found the four of them sated by a feast of turkey, fattened by the recent bounty of spring thaw. Adonis lounged half-upright, cradled by the ancient roots radiating outward from one of the oldest trees in the forest, with his rear legs stretched out to account for his full belly. The towering sentinel, and her long branches, did not tolerate other trees within her space, and thus she was all but the crown of the small clearing—completely unique, and entirely without equal. Adonis' craned his neck back until he nearly toppled to peer up through the boughs, watching as Rakka's wife—distinguishable by the odd splotch of white on her chest—fussed over their hatchlings. A few shiny baubles hung from the branches to entertain the children and, as Adonis suspected, the adults, too. The other members of Rakka's family—fifteen in total—milled about nearby conversing, picking at the carcass, or cleaning their beaks on the branches. The family had lived here for nearly a four-hundred moon-turns.
"Donnyboy, Rakka bring headhurt medicine. Eat, eat," Rakka exclaimed as he fluttered down to a root above, and passed the herbs clutched in his foot into his beak.
Adonis hesitated until his avian friend gave a quork of impatience. He tilted his head back and opened his mouth, letting Rakka place the herbs on his tongue with surprising care. The tasted was as he expected: absolutely terrible. But he quickly swallowed, and bent to tear a strip of turkey meat from what remained of the game. He was reminded of Lydia. The hurt came roaring back, and traitorous tears pricked the corners of his eyes. His father, Lydia, Cyril—what was he going to do now? His gaze fell, landing on his paws. They were larger than his father's were now. He was larger than his father now. And yet he was nothing compared to him.
Nothing without him. So who was he now?
+2 points
the staff team luvs u
