At the densest section of the forest, there is a brief clearing where a steady flow of water streams down the slippery stone staircase. The water here is cool and refreshing. Staircase Falls has been rumoured to be the place where reality is met by magic; where peaceful spirits dwell. They are rumoured to have healing powers that are used to help the desperately hurt, though no one has experienced this, except for, perhaps, Kaive.
IP: 92.14.18.61
Posted on April 17, 2013 at 06:08:25 AM by Terrel
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This place retained numerous of memories for Terrel, it had been the first habitation he had encountered Channing. He had been a small pup then and she had been but an older teenager. How joyful he had been – how miserable he was now… But it was the only place he found harmony with himself anymore. He exhaled mutely; Mae had advised him to talk to Channing. But how could he? Terrel found himself terrified beyond wits. The solider was disturbed by the depressive thoughts of what she would say to him. He had been so rotten to her. So rotten to Henadin and right in front of Moth too! Terrel could not tolerate the thought of her disappointed gaze dwindling upon him, the brute just wished for things to return to the ordinary. To be wandering the lands of Saw Tooth with his mother, to be bounding around in abundant number of games, with his mother… That had all come to an end, an end of an era. He knew he had to find Channing and follow Mae’s advice. Apologise for his deeds, possibly a hug or two. He couldn’t forget Henadin; no he would be assured to keep an eye on him… He distinguished that Henadin was a good, honest brute but Terrel could not keep the doubt that veiled his anxious mind. His father had been once, she had told him, a respectable brute. But he was driven his own misery, anguish and hate. Terrel had detested him but also pitied him – he knew that he could never become a good brute again. He had tortured and slayed his mother. He had killed his siblings. And then, in the haste of losing his mate again, belted himself against the bark of an elderly tree. Terrel had never known if he succeeded, he never waited to find out. He ran, against every will of his body, he ran until he could no longer. But he was stronger now. He could take Henadin and this time Channing would be the one who ran if it ever came to that. Terrel? – His chocolate lobes perked from the sound of his name. His temple furrowed in confusion, it sounded like Channing. Had it been his imagination? Terrel’s bulk froze into a ridged position as a placid breeze brought the cologne of his mother… and Henadin. What would he say? What would he do? Questions racked Terrel’s mind, ideas shrouded his brain. Run. Say you could not find her. But that was coward’s way. Mae. Mae had told him to apologise and he trusted Mae…. Yes, he would clear the conflict that blanketed around them. He inhaled deep, she was only his mother; he could do this. She would forgive him. As much as he pondered over it, Terrel discovered he could not move his pillars and that they seemed to uncertainly hover over the ground- much for comfortable with pacing. But he knew he had to face her some when and started advancing towards her. His four appendages progressed cautiously forward, almost wishing to slow down the procedure of getting to her. But Channing was not far away and it did not take long for him to catch a glimpse of her. HIDE! He panicked. No – he needed to do this. Terrel gulped and started at a heavier pace before that veered into a full on run. Terrel buried his head into the fur of her muzzle, the softness of it giving him a smile. Henadin was not here – perfect. He still felt like he had nothing to apologise for but he forgot all his worries. He was back in his mother’s embrace. He did not want the rest of the conversation to take place; in fact he would have favourably walked away right now… But he couldn’t, he knew Channing would not let him do that. But the mild aroma of Henadin upon her coat triggered him to feel sick, so he pulled away. He didn’t want anything to do with that fool. He held in his words but he thought that she was a bit of a fool for arriving here with the stench of her mate all over her… No mint to conceal it, or herbs to at least gentle it… “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice cracking slightly in the desperation of despair. Alone, you’re going to be alone again – he told the voices in his head. He knew he was going to receive a lecture. He hated lectures. He had nothing to apologise for. Henadin was an idiot. There were few sane wolves he actually knew anymore! Keeping a tight lip, Terrel’s toffee eyes trailed up to her face. Or maybe, he thought, I am the crazy one and everyone else are sane…. Terrel | Pupless | Loveless | Saw Tooth - Omega | Young Adult | Male {Word Count: 1007} { OOC: Sorry for the wait. } 'revolutionaries wait for my head on a silver plate just a puppet on a lonely string oh who would ever want to be king?' |
Replies:
- How lonely is the night without the howl of the wolf? - By Channing. April 17, 2013 at 08:09:30 PM
monsters inside of us - By Terrel April 25, 2013 at 03:35:09 PM
How lonely is the night without the howl of the wolf? - By Channing. May 1, 2013 at 07:28:58 PM
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