Myth - Trudging

Myth :: Royal Lands :: Darkstar Desert :: Trudging

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Topic: Trudging (Read 95 times)

Verheerend
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Trudging
« Thread Started on Sept 23, 2007, 12:02pm »

>Verheerend<
]Never know what I’ve become[
>The king of all that’s said and done<
]The forgotten son[

Heat; it was everywhere, penetrating to his very core, surrounding him and baking him from the outside in. Dirt upon his pelt, formerly a cool coating of mud in some areas, was baked solidly into the dingy white fur which covered his form. Fur; that was his problem here. It wasn’t the heat; nay, for plenty other creature survived this heat, as he had seen. But none of them were covered in so much fate-forsaken fur. Fate-forsaken indeed; it was only fitting that even his fur be as hated by fate as the rest of him. But was he truly hated by fate?

No. He wasn’t hated by fate; fate favored him. But fate was cruel, and those she favored ended up in ‘uncomfortable’ situations. Fate must love him, then; he had certainly had his fair share and more of those situations. So perhaps fate-forsaken was an inaccurate term for his fur which was now causing him so much trouble. Perhaps his fur was more likely favored by fate, just as he was; he was beginning to wish that he was hated by fate instead. Surely her scorn couldn’t be worse than her favor.

His paw hit one of the many bones which lay scattered haphazardly across this unforgiving land, and weary as he was, he ended up flat on the sun baked ground before he could catch himself. A low growl escaped the brute, recognizable to him only as the rumbling deep within his chest; all was silent in his world, even the sounds he himself made.

Grunting in effort, the brute pushed himself to his paws and turned his one-eyed glare upon the stark white bone which he had tripped over. It was a skull, larger than that of a wolf’s, but unrecognizable to the wolf who had so little experience with southern animals. It was large enough that he should have seen it, however, and he paused to send another curse to the great she-wolf who had taken half his sight before he had even come into this world.

Shaking his head briefly; she obviously sought to remind him not to be insolent and wish for her scorn, he turned and continue on, willing his body forward despite the heat of this place. Not even sweat could dampen the hard earthen clods which decorated his form, so thick was the fur between skin and dirt; this was no place for a wolf of his kind. He never thought he would long for the endless realms of snow in the north, but he was certainly longing for it now. No, this was no place for him to be.

And yet, this was exactly where he was meant to be. So far from the north in which he was born, away from his pack and family; he had led fate as far from them as he possible could, of that he was sure, and so it was here that he must stay, for the sake of his pack. It had been drilled into him by the old female whom he knew was not his mother, but who had acted to him as though she was, that he must never return. He was cursed by fate’s favor, and he should never return, for fear of spreading that curse among the others.

He understood this well enough, and so he would not return to the north, but that wouldn’t stop him from hating fate and his curse, despite how much additional attention he might bring upon himself by doing so. After all, there was only so much more fate could do to him; she had already taken his hearing and half his sight. What else could she take if she wished to keep him alive; and she did wish him alive, for he was her main source o amusement these days. Like an old toy, he was, one who a child mutilates and beats but never destroys. And fate was that demented child who knew no other way to play with their toys. And how he hated her for it.

He swerved to avoid another bone, Not again, not this time. But he took the hint nonetheless; he should be paying attention to his surroundings, not cursing fate for the thousandth time this season.

The brute turned the gaze of his single, narrowed eye upon the scorched terrain, squinting into the sun-brightened surroundings. All he saw was tumbleweeds, bones, and the haze of the heat; nothing of any use. He wondered if he was to finally meet his end out here, now that he had reached where he was so obviously meant to be. Hmph, not likely; Fate wasn’t finished with him yet, he was sure. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder how anything could possible survive in this barren wasteland called a desert.

Fate would tell him that soon enough, he supposed; she always aided him just enough to keep him alive, but that aide never came any sooner than she wished it too. For now, his was not to reason why, his was but to do or die. Do what? It was simply his job to walk, and to keep walking. He had been trekking south his entire life, trudging, one could say, and though he was sure he had at last found where he was meant to stay, Fate had yet to give him such a sign. And until then, he was going to keep walking. And so he willed his paws to continue his slow, steady walk over the sun-baked terra.

>A walking disaster<
]At the dead-end I begin[
>To burn a bridge of innocence<
]Satisfaction guaranteed[
>A pillow-weight catastrophe<

((Wow, I haven't role-played Ver in forever, lol. Gotta get back into the swing of things, I suppose. But at least I did actually post! lol))

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>Verheerend<]Neutral Male[>7 Years<]Arctic Wolf[

Rabid
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Re: Trudging
« Reply #1 on Sept 27, 2007, 4:26pm »

//lol, true, very true. x3//

Daemon's black paws dipped into the sand, her tongue lolling out of her mouth as her long legs stretched constantly. Why she had come to the cursed desert of the darks, she would never know. Her demonic eyes were squished as she squinted, her orange head lowered as she attempeted to see. Her small tail flicked as she trekked onward, trying to reach a distant figure. It was large and brown, but it wasn't one of those wretched horse creatures, and it definitely wasn't a wolf.

She finally reached it and saw a tree. Now what was a tree doing in the middle of a desert? She shook her head fiercely, smiling triumphantly when she opened her eyes. There was no tree; there had never been a tree, just a hallucination. She saw another figure in the distance, though this one was much smaller, and white too. Running, her powerful black legs moved fluidly as she reached the object. It was a wolf, though it was much larger than her, being at least two times her size.

Maned wolves weren't the largest of creatures, and they still aren't. about two times as tall as the largest fox, they're considered to be foxes themselves, just large ones. Daemon shook her head once more, finding that the wolf was still there when she opened her eyes. "Who are you?" She demanded, swalloing what little saliva there was in her mouth. "What is your alliance?" Her red fangs gleamed in the harsh sun as she interrogated the obvious foreigner.

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Verheerend
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Anata wa baka desu.

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Re: Trudging
« Reply #2 on Sept 28, 2007, 8:03am »

>Verheerend<
]Never know what I’ve become[
>The king of all that’s said and done<
]The forgotten son[

Something was watching him. There was a distinct feeling to one who couldn’t see when they felt that one who could was watching them. But even though he was only half-blind, he still felt this. Yet, when he turned his head in the wide arch that was required for him to see on both sides, he saw nothing, and, passing it off as just another feeling due to the excessive heat, he continued walking; he did not bother to stop and turn around, and so he missed the fae who had come up to his left and slightly behind him: his blind spot.

She would have seen him glance around, and though he had no way of even knowing she was there, she would think he had seen and just ignored her. But this was certainly not the case; though, one should not put it past him to do such a thing, but this was not his intention for once.

Though, perhaps she would also notice the eye she would have glimpsed was closed, as it always was. Perhaps she would realize then that he simply did not know she was there. But that was unlikely; his glance was a cursory one, and she would have caught a mere glimpse of that eye. And what of his hearing, besides that?

Ver had no idea that someone had spoken, for his world was silent as always. But how does one know when another is deaf? She might notice his right ear, or lack of, rather, though that would be hard to see from her position as he continues to put distance between them, not stopping his incessant trudging. And what of his left? Born deaf, but it looks perfectly fine; she may never realize that she had spoken to a deaf, unless he told her, that is, and he still does not know she is there.

Oh how fun this would be! For this fae has asked a demanding question, and will expect an answer; instead, she will get not even the slightest acknowledgement of her presence. How rude, indeed, of this big, ragged brute! Oh, now she won’t take that from him, will she? She is no happier to be here, that is for sure; her temper must be short already! Oh, yes, indeed, how much fun this will be!

But one is curious now as to what he is thinking, if he is so oblivious to the fae’s presence. Yes, one has time to figure this out, while the situation sinks into the fae, and she decides how to respond; after all, surely it will be hard to miss when such a thing happens. Until then, let’s check in on our dear sense-challenged brute, shall we?

Oh, how fun! He’s angered again, and at your’s truly, as always! He curses ‘the great she-wolf’ for sending him here; does he not know that his own paws carried him here? He curses me for his own curse; what irony! And does he not also know that his own hatred has brought my attention? Oh, what a fun toy indeed! So naïve he is, and so entertaining to watch. Yes, let’s watch him a bit longer; this is getting quite interesting, after all.

>A walking disaster<
]At the dead-end I begin[
>To burn a bridge of innocence<
]Satisfaction guaranteed[
>A pillow-weight catastrophe<

((Wow, it effectively took me until the fifth paragraph to figure out I was writing as Fate, rofl. Next post should be back in Ver’s point of view, my muse just forced me to test that out for this post, lol. Next post should be longer, as well, since there wasn’t much to write in this one, seeing as Ver still doesn’t know Daemon is there, lol))

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>Verheerend<]Neutral Male[>7 Years<]Arctic Wolf[

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