omne
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Spring Y3
8.29.19 - 10.13.19
by Split, 08-31-2019, 09:06 PMRE: News Archive
It's time for an update to how we handle time! Now that we are a couple days into the first season of this year, I'll explain how our flow of time will now work. We will be keeping double time, but our time will be more fluid. Essentially, from here on, you will be allowed to back date threads.

All threads from here on out will need to have a date AND time listed in the thread title. This will allow users to see exactly when a thread occurred.

Previously, if you posted a new thread, the time and date that thread was posted was the time in which that event was happening. We are altering the rules regarding timelines to allow you to backdate threads for any date in the current year. (This is Year 3.) So this year started on 8.29.19. You may date a thread from the current date backward to the first day of the year. So as today is 8/31/19, you may date a thread for any date between 8/29/19 and 8.31.19. You may not date threads forward.

So as the year progresses, you will be able to date threads for any time that has already passed in the year, but you must be careful not to break your own character's timelines. The best way to track a character's timeline is to go to their profile and click the button on it labelled "Thread Log". It shows every thread the character has ever participated in. Likewise, events that would break your timelines should also be carefully monitored. So, for example, if I posted a thread for a character dated for today in the desert, it would break the timeline if I posted a thread dated for the 29th in which they ended up dying.

Excessively breaking your own timelines or other characters' timelines is frowned upon and if done consistently, Staff may intervene. Tomorrow I will be instituting changes to leader logs and pregnancies that reflect these changes, so keep an eye out! Please DM or PM a staffer if you have any questions.
News Archive
Character OTS Katchneil
Relationship OTS Ariodeoux & Dragon
Player OTS Kaitlyn
Thread OTS Detatched

[P] [Colbert] Burst of Sunlight


#1
Amelia had been glad to see Gabriel and his sister reunited. It had made her feel warm and fuzzy, and useful. She had been hunting well for the group, and had been thoroughly enjoying her work for Salvus, but it was time to stretch her legs again. The woman made her way through plant life and tall grasses, trotting and weaving from the deep shadows and safety of her home, threading her way down to her first home. The den she had dug and abandoned for the sake of Mitis and Kicheko.

She splashed ankle deep into the lake when she reached her old home, staring across the water and letting out a dreamy, happy sigh. It was so pretty there, and she wanted more than anything to stay there again. She considered it for a few long moments, how she would like to live near the quiet lake, and to enjoy the beauty of the trees, and then she was moving again. Not that she had any real goal in mind for her day, only that she wanted to keep in motion. She still needed a satchel of some sort, and she was curious how Colbert and his family were doing.

Oh she had so much to tell him.

How she had a real home now.

That she was helping raising children.

That she'd helped find someone's sister.

That everything was just about as good and golden as it could get - and even a hair boring sometimes. She trotted through the trees, listening and sniffing about. She needed a satchel so she could find herbs and stones to take home, and one would help her so much in carrying small prey loads. Her fluffy tail swayed, the late evening sun sinking swiftly down into the horizon. It looked like she'd be spending the night down here, then. A grin broke across her muzzle and she pulled back from the water, shaking herself and starting in the direction of Okan. Surely Kimagure wouldn't turn her away for wanting to talk to her son? She herself had never understood the point of groups always arguing. It was so much easier to get along. Of course, the fox was also accustomed to being alone, only slipping in and out of groups as it benefitted her.

She paused, still in the rainbow forest, and tilted her head slightly as she heard a rush of wings. It didn't take her but a moment to recognize the sound as an owl, and she whirled around, gathering up the strange new magic she'd been practicing and forcing it forward. #wind prison burst into existence, the air gathering ahead of her. The owl that was thinking about turning her into an early evening snack plowed straight into the column of air. The screech it surely made was silent, though Amelia's ears were perked forward. She'd never seen the effect of the wall of wind on another soul - well, not really soul in the case of this particular bird - and was stunned at how it slowly pulled the owl down, like a funnel. Or maybe a tornado? "Wow," she murmured, casting her eyes up to the sky. "Thank you, Miss Eura," she added, shivering slightly. Well, at least now she had a way to quickly flee from Kimagure should the lioness ever decide to attack her. The wind coupled with her increased reflexes would surely give her the lead needed to get to safety.

The fox stood there for ten minutes, watching the ten-by-ten area of damage she had created, including the owl that was struggling to get back aloft. When the wind died down, Amelia dashed forward, teeth bared, and snapped at the bird. Feathers came off into her mouth and strong wings beat her about the head, but with terrier-like persistence, she continued to harass the owl until she finally got a good grip on it. The bird was bigger than her, with a large wingspan, and she was already tired of fighting with it when she managed to suffocate the life out of it, dropping the body once ever the slightest twitch was gone.

"Rude," she told the corpse, putting one slender paw delicately on its chest. She surveyed her bracelet in the dim moonlight, thick tail slowly swaying behind her as she considered her next course of action. Drag the body to Okan as a gift? Take it home? Taking it home would take far too long. It would just be so much easier if Colbert was as much a wanderer as she was.

@YspobDon @Colbert

Colbert

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Gems: 16 Gems
Posts: 76 (of 125)
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#2
Sleeping had become nearly impossible. Worry, guilt, and fear were Colbert's custodians, his constant companions. They woke him up when it was time to grovel, usually an hour or two after he'd originally gone to sleep; they paraded him around as he searched for sickly mice and berry bushes and any sign of hope out there. Being kept separate from the children, Koruda's cubs and his own adopted sisters, was a form of torture, as was being forced to watch as Kimagure became something entirely different from herself. Colbert had taken some sort of vow, against his own will sometimes, to eat as little as possible of what he found, so that he could bring more of it to the tatters of his family and group. Now he was hardly a Colbert anymore, more of a ragged flesh bag draped over an intricate rod.

Every day Colbert bludgeoned himself into waking up each morning, he felt dissonance with everything, especially with his body. He saw the sun, and even greater, he saw its distance. He saw the birds and the butterflies, fleet on their wings, riding phantom winds to places he could not fathom. In Spring, he'd seen seeds passing through the skies, a borealis of birth and life, and he felt six feet under the earth, buried alive without mounds of dirt to cover his eyes, watching as the world kept spinning while he could not. The fox was a walking corpse whose soul had long since left him, propelled by hatred and fear, barely a sentient being any longer. He'd noticed that the less sleep he'd gotten, the more that ugly, slimy snake of self-loathing had tightened 'round his neck, squeezed out pitiful and filthy putters of blood, and left him twitching on the ground, berated and wishing more than ever for a release. Some child he was, for the nightmares had left him, and now all that he had was meaningless wishing. The wishing gripped his skull and spun it in the direction of all the lack, all that was not, all there was need for, all he was incapable of doing. He was drowning in the nothingness of that that should be there. His eyes, at they stared down at his bony little paws, brain lost in space, emblazoned with a searing desolation the fact that Kimagure's true sons hadn't been around to help her, and that had he been a larger being, a true son of hers, he wouldn't have needed them to fight and win for his mother in the first place.

There was an odd dysphoric feeling in knowing that his very body as it was now was a vessel for defeat. He wished to be tailored another form of being, much as he wished to be constructed another place of living. But if one replaced every part of the broom, would it still be the same broom as before? What did it matter to the fox who would give anything to have never existed as himself at this point? To be a new creature, a different creature entirely, would be a miracle, a godsend, and merely just a dream. Another wish to use as a feller's axe for his own beheading. Another execution, and this time, he would lose his mind instead of his scarcely beating heart. 'To be a lion, larger than a pitiful corpse, stronger than a demon.' Colbert would often think. That was his wish. If he could not send his family and his group by angel's wings, in the arms of the night, to the moon or into space, far away from the reaches of Shikikan, then he wished to be someone who could smother Shikikan in a heartbeat, rip the paws from his arms as punishment for the thieving of their pride, break the arms he had left and the tail of his body for the torment of Okan's children, tear the masculinity from his body for violating their women, snap the neck of his head to open him like a cornucopia, letting flow all the bile and the blood that he held. Colbert twitched with anticipation, a disgusting kind of glee at the thought just barely rising up to the surface from his blackened and bloodied ocean, under his wrathful and storming skies, like an acid leviathan dwelling just under the water. Again he felt an envy at the beast under the water, and he imagined himself as a beast akin, a creature with power bursting at the seams, with large paws and a muscular torso, a monstrous face and a victorious thunderclap for a roar. Mane flowing like cumulonimbus cloud, filled with lightning, electricity, enough to burn down a whole forest with. It was such a different image of himself, but one thing was the same: the eyes, orange eyes, stars bursting in their spheres, leaving orange voids in their places that would take and take and take, devour and consume light with no mercy. They would vacuum the life and the light from Shikikan's soul, leave him sullen and grey like a burnt crisp of an ember, and he would sink to a fox's level to stare up with terror and awe. The juxtaposition of the scene that played in Colbert's mind forced a steely laugh from his gritted teeth.

While he idled and felt each cell rotting slowly, separately, flaking off as his bedraggled excuse for a body wasted away to ash and dust, Colbert wished, in totality, for once, to be the executioner instead of the executed. To finally hold his use, carry more than his weight, and bring others to meet his good friend death. Colbert had seen death from a third person standpoint twice now, and the encounters, on top of his own personal one, gave him plenty of fuel for his wretched and deplorable fantasies. For once in his life, he'd actually wanted someone dead, and it was the one creature farthest from actually dying. His desires could not hold the power of yanking him to his feet in the early, early, early mornings, not with the same authority and prowess that his internal and external demons could. But they could propel him from there, hasten his step whereas his anxieties only chained him down.

Tonight, feeble moonlight peeking out and beginning to flood the stage of life upon which he walked, Colbert knew not what to do with the energy his phantoms of craving bestowed upon him. The energy, held unfairly captive in his current idle position, accentuated with fine detail the internal rot he felt inside, emphasized a familiar demand to move, and once again, Colbert was forced to comply. On unreasonably light paws, Colbert rode a flimsy and ephemeral wind of his own invention, still much more like the estranged small bird or butterfly than he wanted to be, out of his resting place, out of this decrepit ruin and this morgue he and all the others were imprisoned to. A temporary visit to somewhere else. Colbert had made sure to roll in mud to cover his sent, as he'd learned from Kimagure to do, and then he'd set off. He didn't know where he desired to go, he only desired the pianissimo drumming of his paws somehow quelling the violent whirlwind of his mind, tamping out the fires caused by haphazard ardor, an excess of energy caused by villainous thoughts and gluttonous wishes.

Somehow, unconsciously, fate guided the fox's path, right into the one of another vulpine, a very different one, whose life seemed to run antiparallel to his own. The moment he saw her figure, he halted and scented the air about her. And then, with recognition, his eyes widened and his knees quaked. His heart went to hammering, and no amount of droning paw steps could've drained the volume of the yammering in his skull. Very quickly, Colbert felt good to be encompassed in the darkness, and silently cursed the overseeing moon. A pitch black night might have made him completely impervious to her observing eyes, or better yet, allowed the evasion of this interaction entirely. But that was not the moon's way, nor was that its bidding; the moon was set to be the lighthouse in the sea of night, the faithful watchman for the clandestine meetings, even chance encounters, of nocturnal wayfarers. To curse it for upholding its rightful duty was picayune. Perhaps Colbert had intended to curse fate itself. No matter.

Holding his breath, Colbert stood there for a moment, before reality adjured him to let it go. He was tired, and notably diminished in many senses of the word. He was currently keeping an ugly attitude and degenerate fantasies as his company. In short, he was not fit to interact with anyone outside of himself right now. But that didn't mean he was exonerated from the responsibility of this ignorant woman's safety as long as she was anywhere near Shison's border. Who knew what would happen if anybody else found her here. He coaxed himself to speak up, his voice trembling with frailty but emboldened by concern, "Amelia, is that you?" He had to be sure. "What are you doing here?" He slowly shifted into a guarded position -- head down, eyes up and narrowed, ears moving back, legs spreading apart, tail tucking, the like -- paranoid that this may be some other fox, some other being, or some illusion created from his depraved mentality.

@Nibi (Amelia)

#3
Amelia's paw rested on the chest of the felled bird, green eyes focused on the tiny pearl on her ankle. She was wondering about it, wondering what the gods had granted her with it aside from a pretty bit of jewelry. One ear twitched and then she lowered her head, carefully plucking feathers from the owl's wings. Each feather that fell gently from her teeth was one more that would remain unstained from blood, and she could gather up if she managed to find a satchel on this moonlit night. Her tail bristled slightly before she even registered she was being looked at, and her head lifted from her task slowly, gentle expression becoming guarded. She steeled herself for some assault, having picked up the faintest whiff of something... not familiar.

She turned, spying a bedraggled, miserable excuse of a creature. Her dark ears dropped back against her head and she arched her neck, lips pulling back, thinking momentarily that this was some feral, rabid beast come to try to steal her prize and her gift. She was preparing for a fight when the trembling voice was so familiar that her ears shot up and her stance slipped from ready to have an argument to concern in a moment. Green eyes widened, and she abandoned the owl, taking a few quick steps forward. "Well unless the dumb foxes have learned to wear necklaces, I'd think it were me," she answered, trying to keep her voice light even though worry was very, very much in it.

"I was trying to see if I could find a satchel... and then I thought I might see how you and Queen Kimagure were doing and then this owl thought I might be an early dinner and so I was going to try to drag it to Okan's border and see if anyone was awake but-..." She babbled less because babbling was safe and more because she was trying to get to the question that burned hotly in her mind. "Colbert," she took a few more careful steps forward, ducking her head down and once more deferring to the male by her stance, "what's happened?" Even in the shadows she could tell he was underweight, scrawny. The last fox she'd seen in such poor health had been rabid, and even that was before she'd come to Omne. Here most things seemed okay, and if they weren't, it was usually due to other predators.

She wondered for a moment if something had happened to Kimagure.

@YspobDon @Colbert

Colbert

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Gems: 16 Gems
Posts: 76 (of 125)
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#4
An answer returned from the darkness. There was humor in it, but it hit Colbert with an inaudible clunk as though he were a brick wall, and only the smallest muscle in his mouth twitched. It wasn't her fault. But the throwaway joke did manage to find its worth in letting him know that it was Amelia. There was relief, followed by immediate distress and distrust resurfacing. She sounded worried -- many good, or just sensible, souls would be if they saw a walking skeleton dressed to the nines in sagging, shriveling fur, like some horrendously failed taxidermy project. Colbert tensed up and listened to her go on about needing to find a satchel, then coming over to check up on him and Kimagure, then finding and owl, and as she went on Colbert somehow found himself patiently following along with her, getting wrapped up in her gibberish, believing all of this to be important, too. He could almost feel his tension began to diminish. And then the word "Okan" hit and he was yanked back into reality, body back to sternly contracting. The effect Amelia had on him was a startling one. She really was so much like the old him, and it was... well, it certainly felt uncomfortable.

She asked what had happened, and Colbert squirmed uneasily, shifting weight from paw to paw, trying to figure out how to answer. His mother's words echoed in his mind, 'Lie, steal, cheat, whatever you have to do. Just do what you have to,' the words resonated all about his mind space. Could he trust Amelia? No, absolutely not, out of the question. She smelled of the other group, whom they held neutrality with. For a moment, Colbert was envious. She'd made the right decision staying away from what would later become "Shison". But immediately, that envy ended when Colbert realized once more that through thick and thin, he'd rather die than be split from his family.

But she'd asked. She seemed kind. She seemed like what he had been.

Quickly, Colbert was reminded of another outsider who'd seemed kind. Karama. No, these mistakes were to never be made again.

But Colbert couldn't just turn Amelia away, could he? What was the protocol, what was the safest move here? For a moment, there was stagnant air and silence flowing like molasses down the atmosphere, as Colbert pondered his answer like one moves a chess piece across a board.

The easiest thing to do seemed to be something like denying her a response. But she'd already discovered that something was wrong in the way that he'd looked and the way that he'd spoken. She hadn't needed a clear view of him to ask. So it might just generate more dissonance and gut-wrenching wrongness than there already was. Not to mention, what was wrong was the reason that her safety was at stake, and that had been Colbert's primary reason for calling out to her in the first place. So he'd cornered himself, and he had to respond. But with what? Obviously not something like "my mother was usurped by her insane father and now we're all his slaves". If Amelia ever let that information loose, and she definitely could, there might be an attack on Shison, and while Colbert would give anything to see anybody beat the everliving crap out of Shikikan, they could also do the same to those he did not want hurt, and that was not something Colbert would allow to happen again. Ever.

So he could not not answer. He could not tell her exactly what had happened. He had to tell her some truth otherwise she might continue to endanger herself and, possibly, along with herself, the members of the group. Half lies. Quarter lies. Actually no, more like three-quarters lies. On the very dim and insignificant "bright side", that made them half-truths and quarter-truths. Another moment more, and Colbert had processed what he could say. "Okan is now called Shison. It is ruled by Shikikan. He does not take too kindly to outsiders." 'Or insiders, really,' Colbert added on in thought, and in thought and only thought it would remain. Part of this could be considered bluffing, but Colbert doubted it. [b]"I, um... thank you for the thought of the owl, but I don't know what will happen if you are found here by anyone besides me."

Some part of him wanted to trust Amelia, take the owl home, give it to the children and the creatures who needed it. Part of him longed for her help, as she was on the outside, to fix this. 'Bring armies, bring friends!' this part wanted to say. 'We need to take down Shikikan!' But trust no longer functioned in Colbert like it once had. There once was an underground river of trust in Colbert, readily flowing, vivid and vibrant and racing like how a child gaily races with a friend, and it was accessed by a nigh brimful well, open to all. But ever since life, and perhaps more prominently, death had hit him, Colbert's internal river of trust had dried up, and what little trust was left could only be earned in droplets, priced and valued cautiously. He didn't know Amelia. He didn't know her as long as he'd known Kimagure, or even Karama. And he didn't even really know Karama either. In fact, Kimagure was perhaps Colbert's only social tether, and the isolation, to him, had been well-deserved. He didn't know friends anymore, and he especially didn't know other foxes despite his being one.

The silver fox was now trapped, he realized. He couldn't leave until she did, for her own safety and his. But unless she had more to say, Colbert didn't know what more there was she could offer him, or if there was anything more he was allowed to offer her.

So he took a seat.

@Nibi (Amelia)

#5
Amelia Stark by Split
The vixen took a slow, cautious step toward Colbert, watching him critically in the shadows. Her ears were perked toward him, and for a moment she wasn't even certain what she was being told. Green eyes narrowed slightly. "I'm not in his territory. He has no reason to attack me," she said softly, her head lowered. For a moment she hesitated, one paw lifted, and then trotted forward quickly before her nerve left her.

The woman attempted to pass against the silver fox's side when he sat down, thinking of the few things that ever brought her even a shred of comfort in life. The brush of fur against her side, someone leaving her a kill outside her nest, tiny little things that were insignificant in the grand scheme of things but in the moment meant everything. She had so little to offer anyone else except those few things. Even as a nanny she had little she felt she could do when the children were hurt or scared. Colbert was a grown man, and she was certain that she was falling flat as far as offering comfort went.

Her mind buzzed, trying to figure out Shison and Shikikan as she came to a halt near the man, but now a tail length away from him. No need to overstay her welcome if she was even able to press against him. "What about Queen Kimagure?" She asked gently, studying him and trying to make out his expression. She could see he was thin, sure, but seeing his face was more difficult. Trying to determine if he was lying was impossible. After all, what reason did he have to lie to her? She had learned her lesson when they had met Magister. Be quiet, follow the lead of others, behave. 'Behave behave behave,' she thought, her tail twitching slightly at the tip.

Behaving didn't mean she had to sit in silence, and it didn't mean she couldn't ask questions. She wasn't in Shison's territory, so it was no problem there. But Colbert was worried. She exhaled slowly. "I'll head back home... but... please take the owl..." she said slowly, looking down at her paws, a frown on her muzzle. Why hadn't he just turned and walked away when he'd noticed her? Why bother saying anything at all if she was in danger? Wouldn't that be good for Shison to be rid of a fox from another realm? Wasn't that how these things worked? Maybe she knew one too many fairytales from home.

@YspobDon


"Wanderlust."

Art by Split. Stock found here.

Colbert

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Gems: 16 Gems
Posts: 76 (of 125)
Other Accounts
#6
Amelia's first response made Colbert pull in every rein to keep himself from wincing. She was naive. She had no way of knowing what he could do unless... wait. Unless she did? Colbert's mind was set into motion, gears started shifting and turning and then they were on fire, racing against each other with a screeching klang, hustling and bustling to power a frantic train of thought leading down a course, a terrible course, a course through demons and thorns, and yet the only course it could take.

Why had she come here? Here specifically? Who was the owl really for? An excuse? A distraction? Colbert suddenly felt very tired, like he didn't want to feel anything at all. But the train kept running. Gravity pulls the train, even as it sleeps. Fire was flung and heat was rising within Colbert's head and heart, but his face was disconnected and disjointed. The snake named Paranoia slung its sudden weight atop the train, which fearfully put it to a stop for a space, but then as it curled round the train, it seems to force the train forth, aggressively, nonsensically, with a power Colbert had never seen nor understood before in his life.

Spy. Traitor. Actor. Liar. What was she, why? Why? WHY?

Colbert's face felt nothing.

As the red fox moved forward, the body finally began to move with the train. Colbert opened his mouth as if to protest, but it was already too late. She touched him, and he shuddered.

Memories of touch from anyone other than Kimagure were few and far between for the little fox. Society had starved him of the ability to feel, or seek solace from anyone other than his guardian angel. Everyone was scary. Even him. But she touched him, this fox, and it made him question the color of her fur. Red like blood, red like demons? Or red like the thread that binds two together in companionship? Which was it?

The train kept moving, but the body froze once more, a statue, or perhaps simply a wall. A small wall, like a cairn. Colbert simply let her brush against him. She distracted him with more words. 'What about Queen Kimagure?' A beat. "I, uh... she is alive. Still Queen." That was all he could say.

She asked him to take the owl. This was a moment, Colbert could feel, where he had two distinct options. Take it? Bring it back, for others to feed on? But... what if it had always been intended for Shikikan? A signal? Did Colbert dare to feed the literal beast? Did that make sense? Everything felt blurry. He wanted to go home. Was she trying to be friendly? Should... should he try, too?

Colbert thought of the times he had been friendly. He had reason, so , so, so much reason to fear the action. Rejection was the least of his worries in this scenario. Deceit seemed to be all that inhabited his life now. What a bind it would make, to take this owl. A show of trust, comradery, weakness. No. No. Kimagure said not to be weak. Everyone said weakness was bad. That was it. There it was, his reason. If he took the owl, he looked weak. The pride looked weak. It was weak, but if he made it look as it was, things would only get worse. Then no. He would not.

The snake named Paranoia seized Colbert's throat and squeezed tight, cutting the circuit between his heart and his mind. Colbert's body had no control anymore. This body belonged to the snake's now, it was a vessel. The snake said to leave. Colbert's jaw was puppeteered, not necessarily against his will, for he had no will to stop it. The puppet Colbert said, sternly, and finally, as the period to end a sentence, "I cannot accept it. Goodbye." And then he got up, turned away, and walked off.

He walked until he could hide behind something, and turn around again, to watch what she did. He would not leave until she left, but again, he was not in the business of showing reality to others anymore. All would've ended then, the scene set, the curtains closed, if only the annoying, ever-persistent, ever-present figment of baby Colbert hadn't finally come two. Quickly, the snake named Paranoia bound the child, for it knew very well what that dumb child could do. But the small Colbert still had so much power, just enough to part the fox's jaws and make him say ever so softly, "I'm sorry."

- exit once Amelia exits -

@Nibi

#7
Amelia Stark by Split
Amelia's muzzle was pulled into a frown, her tail over her paws, and then under them. She stared curiously at Colbert as he stuttered, seemingly lost in his own mind. Ears dropped back against her skull, trying to determine then, if Kimagure was alive, how the fox was in such poor shape. It was quiet between them, the only noise the soft shudder of the wind, a call toward home without a voice. Then the call home was strengthened. She was being scolded. Her shoulders drooped, head tucking at the seriousness, the stern lecturing words, and she flinched in spite of knowing - of trusting - the other to not lash out at her.

She trusted others to know best, to know better, to not want to do ill. She trusted them to be smarter than her, and to be as kind as her. She trusted Damia to have had her best interests in mind, she trusted the Faraja family to be her friends, she trusted other foxes without rhyme or reason. But the scolding was not something she could take. It made her feel very small. She rose when he turned his back, ears pressed firmly to her head and tail dragging on the ground. 'Did I do something wrong? Say something wrong?' She thought, muzzle contorted in confusion. It was a shorter walk to Okan than home, and a show of compassion had never steered her wrong before. Was it wrong when kingdoms were involved? When you had solid homes? She grabbed the wing of her prey, tugging it pitifully along.

Well, the walk back to Salvus would be a long one now, and she'd have all night to consider it. To think about what she had done wrong, or said wrong, to consider if friendliness was such a poor choice or not.

Her thoughts were some of the worst company that night, but at least they were company.

-exit-


"Wanderlust."

Art by Split. Stock found here.


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