Ruieze Fields

Open fields and soft grass...
Ruieze stretches far in the midlands of Moladion, laced with streams that feed into Diveen and out of Asteraia at times. The fields are vast, filled with wildflowers and tall, soft grass; trees are sparse, as are rocks, but one can find small shrubs to hide amongst, and the grass itself. To the south of the fields, a Ruieze River widens, and the ground becomes sandy. There is a small, grassy island that can be reached from the banks, with water-birds often congregating on the island rather than the riverbanks.

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THE DEVIL KNOWS MY NAME mordecai
IP: 108.69.203.48
Posted on January 25, 2015 at 10:21:53 PM by RENEGADE



The night was cold and dark, the stars twinkling happily above as if they were teasing the wolf who walked beneath them. Crimson eyes stared ahead dully as he made his way through the fields, hardly having the energy to lift his paws up all the way. Renegade was the picture of despair, and for once, he was unconcerned with keeping up a strong facade. There was no one to see him anyway- in this moment the brute felt more alone, more weak and pitiful and pathetic than he ever had. He couldn't even be angry anymore because he was too damn tired- he hadn't slept in days, hadn't even stopped to rest. Part of him hoped that he simply died from exhaustion, because it would be preferable to the pain he felt.

Somehow, Renegade had lost again. It seemed that fate just had it out for him, because apparently he could just never have anything go right. The male shut his eyes and gritted his teeth as flashbacks assailed him, the same flashbacks that kept him from sleeping, from even stopping. Despite all of his reservations, he had... found someone again. Or so he had thought. But no, life had to fuck him over again, and he was left alone once more, cold and out in the dark like an abandoned puppy.

At first he had been angry. So, so angry. He had found a rabbit's den and tore her and her babies to pieces, staining his white chest crimson to match his rage-filled eyes. And then came the denial. And then the despair, the sleepless, agonizing nights. And now he was an empty husk of what the old Renegade had been.

Perhaps one would think he was being dramatic, but Renegade had been using Istas as a crutch. He was raw, finally dealing with his past when he had someone to support him. But his crutch had been ripped out from underneath him, sending him tumbling further and further down. He couldn't deal with loneliness, he couldn't deal with not having. Istas had ripped open the wound that Renegade had slowly been closing shut and it was even worse than before.

Renegade knew that he was pathetic, and he hated himself all the more for it. There was nothing redeemable about himself, not anymore. He could crack a joke or a smirk and pretend, but the world knew that it was all an act now.

Limbs shaking from exhaustion, finally he could go on no longer, and sunk into a sit. He stared down at the ground, his eyelids heavy, but his thoughts would not allow him to get a moment's rest. The world was too harsh to him, and it no longer served as a driving force behind his strength. Instead it became the weight tied to his legs that dragged him down into the lake and filled his lungs with water. It became the infection slowly seeping through his veins from the ragged wounds on his heart. It became the look on Istas's face as he had yelled and bolted off.

Renegade sat there, unmoving, for some time. He couldn't gather the energy to stand again.


Renegade
seven - loner - bound & loved by none


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