TERREL
"I'm not scared," said the Grufflao's Child.
The body whose markings and patterns fooled all, started to discreetly tremble. His eyes were wide in a silent panic, ears pinned back in a submissive way. Transparent blotches rolled down his face; one, two, three. The world seemed to spin round in a circle; everything and everyone was dizzy – so dizzy and confusing. Nothing could save him; no one knew anything about the figment of history; present fought the past and was defeated… Until that voice flooded through his ears, down to his soul; Channing. His dear, sweet mother, who had rescued him, fought against his past; made him a wolf. And now, here he was, trembling in his own sweat. But alas – she was calling to him. He’d go straight to the location of her voice, straight to her body and dive for a hug and nuzzle. He had moved away from the pack meeting, close to the border; so he knew he would not interrupt anyone from hearing things or talking.
Terrel coughed a bit, clearing his throat as he moved through the forest; ‘no wolf’s land.’ He coughed once more and a short howl appeared into the air; and another one – a longer and fluent one. It was really nothing extraordinary – it was nothing explained to be like angels singing; rather it sounded as if ghosts and ghouls were moaning out for revenge. Spine chilling or what? He carried on for a while, not wanting to let her voice die out as he raced for the foliage, across the terrain. Terrel wanted to bury himself in her fur and never move from there again. He hated himself that he was leaving Nova behind but she wouldn’t have wanted to be around him in this state any way.
His legs started to sprint at a rather impressive speed; he could hear the wind racing past him. It was clear that Terrel wanted his mother, it was clear that though he had grown muscles and though he had grown mentally up – he still needed a Channing hug. He came to a halt, skidding a little bit as he did. He looked around him as flowers seemed to begin to get more frequent and common until the path he was taking was full of crushed, dead or dying flowers – ‘that’s not nice, shouldn’t they have had a chance to live, too?’ The boy thought, eyes scanning the ground with a troubled expression.
The air blew into his face, and he winced back at it until it brought to him the scent of a loved one; Channing. A smile crossed his face and he began a rather odd galloping run. He ran right over to Channing and pounced on her. His lightweight body probably did not affect her one bit. He began to bury his face into her muzzle fur; the softest fur of her body he found. Eventually, he rolled off of her and stayed there, on his back, eyes half closed, facing against the sky. He wanted to say – ‘help me, mum.’ He wanted to shout it all out – but he couldn’t, he wouldn’t.
They say getting things out makes us all better… But what if it makes us worse? What if we find ourselves surrounded by a group of being, laughing and mocking? Secrets should stay secrets, no one should know. No one should ever know but they do. Two wolf’s know – My Mum and the brute whom I cannot call my father. I hate brutes, I will do everything I can to stop Channing from getting a rough mate, and I will also stop Nova from getting a rough mate… I know I’m like my dad, in control, power hungry but at least it’s for the good of it and not to see and experience pain that is not your own.
Stupid, good for nothing brute.
Male || Young Adult || Saw Tooth || No lover || No Pups
Souleh
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