Nov 22, 2020 5:51:28 GMT
Post by jet on Nov 22, 2020 5:51:28 GMT
WHEN ALL OF THESE PEOPLE KEEP FALLING AROUND ME I WONDER IF I COULD BE NEXT |
RUNE
It was a cold day, not unlike yesterday, and Rune had been given no sign that the wet season was coming to a close. For starters, it had nearly just begun. Heavy fog made the valley mysterious, damp, and unwelcoming, though it was nothing unusual. The amber spotted tom watched down from his perch of mossy stone with a kingly posture: it was the closest thing to a home he ever had, a territory he could call his without the intrusion of someone stumbling in and calling it their own.
Hidden within a labyrinth of fog, undergrowth, and low, dense foliage were the Starlight Ruins.
Rune felt like royalty, slinking down from his throne of ancient stone like a jaguar from a jungle branch. There was no light that broke through the canopy. There was no heat to dry up the fog. Not in the wet season, when the mists blanketed the woods in a cold, unforgiving veil that neither scent nor sight could navigate.
"Time to break the fast!" He meowed in an uplifting murmur, planting his paws at the edge of a trickling stream. It was convenient, waking up to breakfast at his feet. It never snowed down here in the forests: it was a simple exchange of wet and dry season, and that was just how he liked it. Anything outside the realms of black and white made him cringe.
A quick flash of a claw brought him nothing.
"Right." He smirked, splashing downstream to his trap, a halfhearted attempt to send more scrambling in.
The minnows always seemed to get stuck where he rolled in those stones, a profitable accident that has since been expanded upon, and daresay perfected. They enjoyed mosquitos incredibly, something quite commonly found within the lake-ridden territory: in fact, there were many stagnant pools around the ruins Rune often visited on the wetter days. If he couldn't even see his paws, it was too much work to go out and risk being prey for what lurked behind the veil that was bigger than him. Rune felt the water run over his paws, cool and fresh, though what awaited him at his destination was somber disappointment.
In the tiny cove he so carefully created, there was one minnow flitting around desperately.
Rune snapped the fish up delicately with his jaws, water dribbling down his sullen features as he retreated back to his perch: it was meager breakfast that was eaten in short time.
"See that, y'all?" Rune blurted out. "I'll be dead just like you soon'nough."
He always did have a knack for drama.
Rune pulled himself to his paws, walnut brown eyes sharpening with concern. There was prey out in the Fog Forest, though there were many things larger than him that slunk through the moist shadows. He preferred to keep to his ruins and trap his minnows, living a life of simple solitude. He craved the safety of familiarity, and it seemed the forest changed every time he went out.
Rune let out a lighthearted huff.
"Let's go on an'dventure." He meowed, leaping from his threshold like a wildcat on a hunt.
And it wasn't untrue.
Rune felt the gravity of his home grow distant behind him as he stepped through the forest. The shadows would get to his mind if he wasn't careful enough. Scents were weak, watered down. The only thing that would get him there and back in one piece was focus and memory.
67, 68, 69, 70
He was so glad Haar taught him how to count. The man was more of a dad than his own father was: too bad he had to go ruin everything. Rune halted.
Ruin everything. He just cracked himself up.
121, 122, 123, 124
What a mess this whole place was. Rune continued walking and a brisk pace, paws brushing the ground without a sound. It was a forest of sweat and tears half the year, and the other half it was lush, welcoming even: a terrible trap for an unsuspecting cat. Can't take the good without the bad. He mused insensitively, the fresh scent of impending forest rain tickling his tongue and tempting return to a dry nest in his ruins.
Though Rune felt the weight of this world: he lived for it, the mysterious mists, and a little bit of rain wouldn't chase away his opportunity for a real meal.
299, 300, 301, 302
A rustle ahead made him double-take. Rune's short, sleek fur fluffed up pathetically: he never did have the most intimidating hackles in the family.
His breath was caught in the back of his throat, and dread scuttled up his spine like owl's claws. He waited, an eerie silence making his chest tighten, as if his heart and lungs were being crushed by falling rocks. The second rustle sent him darting up the nearest tree with a speed like no other. The jumpy tom waited in the shelter of the boughs like a jungle cat, his striking amber form muted in the misty shade, though his glare was unwavering.
He watched a shadow move. He heard the shadow move. Though the realization of what greeted his senses made his heart drop.
Oh...no. Rune thought, cringing from the safety of his temporary refuge.
The rain was getting heavy, and the lone cat looked miserable. Even Rune felt the water soak into his skin through the canopies. It was raining hard if they were feeling it under the shelter of the forest, though the fog, as usual, was relentless and stagnant.
Quite like Rune's selfish possession over his stony abode.
The amber tabby tom sighed, dropping down onto the forest floor with a nearly inaudible thump. Rune was a tall, towering shadow behind a wet, grey guise. He approached with a swagger in his step, bravado fueling his every move. This cat didn't need to know how close he had come. This cat just needed help finding his way back to wherever he came from.
Away from Rune's ruins.
The solitary cat was greeted with a kind smirk. Rune's form came into view handsomely, the older tom's distinct spotted pelt and foreign tone warming the cold, dreary landscape. Just a touch.
"You look a lil lost, partner." Rune chided softly through the strengthening rain. "Though I can't say I don't blame you. What're you doin' wanderin'round out here all'lone?"
Rune glanced past the tabby and white tom with well-guarded discomfort. He didn't like the stranger in between him and his things. Casually, amiably, Rune traipsed around the youth and tapped him on his shoulder with a thick, spotted tail. A soft grin and a welcoming glint in Rune's walnut hued eyes was enough to warm mountain ice, though some cats weren't keen on strangers.
A kit, practically stumbling on top of his ruins?
He'd argue that to be more intrusive than strange.
"I've never seen the likes o'you 'round 'ere." Rune finished, frowning slightly, a sparkling intrigue rich in his muted gaze. Was this young'un one of the new folk in the area that he heard about? Those cult-cat's he's been watching from afar among the safety of his branches and undergrowth?
Yet he's never seen this one before.
Rune watched patiently, quietly, listening for the young tom's response, craving the interaction that he had been so hesitant to take. He inhaled it like fresh air after holding his breath for so long.
What's your name? Rune urged silently, sitting back on his haunches and wrapping his thick tail around large, silvery paws.
Hidden within a labyrinth of fog, undergrowth, and low, dense foliage were the Starlight Ruins.
Rune felt like royalty, slinking down from his throne of ancient stone like a jaguar from a jungle branch. There was no light that broke through the canopy. There was no heat to dry up the fog. Not in the wet season, when the mists blanketed the woods in a cold, unforgiving veil that neither scent nor sight could navigate.
"Time to break the fast!" He meowed in an uplifting murmur, planting his paws at the edge of a trickling stream. It was convenient, waking up to breakfast at his feet. It never snowed down here in the forests: it was a simple exchange of wet and dry season, and that was just how he liked it. Anything outside the realms of black and white made him cringe.
A quick flash of a claw brought him nothing.
"Right." He smirked, splashing downstream to his trap, a halfhearted attempt to send more scrambling in.
The minnows always seemed to get stuck where he rolled in those stones, a profitable accident that has since been expanded upon, and daresay perfected. They enjoyed mosquitos incredibly, something quite commonly found within the lake-ridden territory: in fact, there were many stagnant pools around the ruins Rune often visited on the wetter days. If he couldn't even see his paws, it was too much work to go out and risk being prey for what lurked behind the veil that was bigger than him. Rune felt the water run over his paws, cool and fresh, though what awaited him at his destination was somber disappointment.
In the tiny cove he so carefully created, there was one minnow flitting around desperately.
Rune snapped the fish up delicately with his jaws, water dribbling down his sullen features as he retreated back to his perch: it was meager breakfast that was eaten in short time.
"See that, y'all?" Rune blurted out. "I'll be dead just like you soon'nough."
He always did have a knack for drama.
Rune pulled himself to his paws, walnut brown eyes sharpening with concern. There was prey out in the Fog Forest, though there were many things larger than him that slunk through the moist shadows. He preferred to keep to his ruins and trap his minnows, living a life of simple solitude. He craved the safety of familiarity, and it seemed the forest changed every time he went out.
Rune let out a lighthearted huff.
"Let's go on an'dventure." He meowed, leaping from his threshold like a wildcat on a hunt.
And it wasn't untrue.
Rune felt the gravity of his home grow distant behind him as he stepped through the forest. The shadows would get to his mind if he wasn't careful enough. Scents were weak, watered down. The only thing that would get him there and back in one piece was focus and memory.
67, 68, 69, 70
He was so glad Haar taught him how to count. The man was more of a dad than his own father was: too bad he had to go ruin everything. Rune halted.
Ruin everything. He just cracked himself up.
121, 122, 123, 124
What a mess this whole place was. Rune continued walking and a brisk pace, paws brushing the ground without a sound. It was a forest of sweat and tears half the year, and the other half it was lush, welcoming even: a terrible trap for an unsuspecting cat. Can't take the good without the bad. He mused insensitively, the fresh scent of impending forest rain tickling his tongue and tempting return to a dry nest in his ruins.
Though Rune felt the weight of this world: he lived for it, the mysterious mists, and a little bit of rain wouldn't chase away his opportunity for a real meal.
299, 300, 301, 302
A rustle ahead made him double-take. Rune's short, sleek fur fluffed up pathetically: he never did have the most intimidating hackles in the family.
His breath was caught in the back of his throat, and dread scuttled up his spine like owl's claws. He waited, an eerie silence making his chest tighten, as if his heart and lungs were being crushed by falling rocks. The second rustle sent him darting up the nearest tree with a speed like no other. The jumpy tom waited in the shelter of the boughs like a jungle cat, his striking amber form muted in the misty shade, though his glare was unwavering.
He watched a shadow move. He heard the shadow move. Though the realization of what greeted his senses made his heart drop.
Oh...no. Rune thought, cringing from the safety of his temporary refuge.
The rain was getting heavy, and the lone cat looked miserable. Even Rune felt the water soak into his skin through the canopies. It was raining hard if they were feeling it under the shelter of the forest, though the fog, as usual, was relentless and stagnant.
Quite like Rune's selfish possession over his stony abode.
The amber tabby tom sighed, dropping down onto the forest floor with a nearly inaudible thump. Rune was a tall, towering shadow behind a wet, grey guise. He approached with a swagger in his step, bravado fueling his every move. This cat didn't need to know how close he had come. This cat just needed help finding his way back to wherever he came from.
Away from Rune's ruins.
The solitary cat was greeted with a kind smirk. Rune's form came into view handsomely, the older tom's distinct spotted pelt and foreign tone warming the cold, dreary landscape. Just a touch.
"You look a lil lost, partner." Rune chided softly through the strengthening rain. "Though I can't say I don't blame you. What're you doin' wanderin'round out here all'lone?"
Rune glanced past the tabby and white tom with well-guarded discomfort. He didn't like the stranger in between him and his things. Casually, amiably, Rune traipsed around the youth and tapped him on his shoulder with a thick, spotted tail. A soft grin and a welcoming glint in Rune's walnut hued eyes was enough to warm mountain ice, though some cats weren't keen on strangers.
A kit, practically stumbling on top of his ruins?
He'd argue that to be more intrusive than strange.
"I've never seen the likes o'you 'round 'ere." Rune finished, frowning slightly, a sparkling intrigue rich in his muted gaze. Was this young'un one of the new folk in the area that he heard about? Those cult-cat's he's been watching from afar among the safety of his branches and undergrowth?
Yet he's never seen this one before.
Rune watched patiently, quietly, listening for the young tom's response, craving the interaction that he had been so hesitant to take. He inhaled it like fresh air after holding his breath for so long.
What's your name? Rune urged silently, sitting back on his haunches and wrapping his thick tail around large, silvery paws.
[attr="class","pftag"]TAGGED Helica | [attr="class","pfwc"]WORDS n/a |
