03-27-2023, 06:56 PM
[table][tr][td][/td]
[td][/td][td][/td][/tr][/table]
[div style="padding-top: 40px; padding-left: 30px; font-size: 90px;"]X
[td][/td][td][/td][/tr][/table]
MEMORIES TURN INTO DAYDREAMS! -- fae borzoi. cotc.
Days had bled into weeks which had bled into months. He'd been gone for too long, unaware of the situation back in the Coalition, too caught up in his own issues and those regarding his children. Such issues had led to the fae to have heard that one of his pups lived, rumored to be on some island. Not some island, he had decided, But the one I fled from in my injured state years ago. Back where I was a loyalist. Such news had troubled him, it still did. His son was still alive, kept in the company of the people he had called friends once. Cannibals. The people who now had his son, and for his son's sake, he hoped they didn't know he was his. Val had been a friend one but they'd begun to fall out before he'd volunteered to leave. He had smartened the hell up and gotten out of town, but not before sustaining injuries in an attack that put him at risk of death.
Pulse pounding in his ears as he approached the border of the Coalition. He could remember the agony, the broken bones and torn muscle. He still walked with a limp most days, and the cold of the winter only made it worse. In the months since his disappearance, the fae had won the most important battle, finding Rastam after he left the Coalition, and slaughtering the trophy hunter. The lion's dark pelt now rested upon his shoulders and back, keeping his body heat close to him, wings pinned to his body.
Inhaling and stepping over the border, the canine trod towards camp with a steely glint in his eyes. Stepping foot into camp after a while of traversing, the white pelted male lowered the hood of the lion pelt, it's thick fur settling against his fur roughly, his breath misting his muzzle now. "I'm back. This place looks like it's been in a tough spot ...", he spoke softly as faces peered from the caves towards him. Shuddering from a chill, wondering when spring would come.
[align=center]"speech" .. 'thoughts' .. attack
Pulse pounding in his ears as he approached the border of the Coalition. He could remember the agony, the broken bones and torn muscle. He still walked with a limp most days, and the cold of the winter only made it worse. In the months since his disappearance, the fae had won the most important battle, finding Rastam after he left the Coalition, and slaughtering the trophy hunter. The lion's dark pelt now rested upon his shoulders and back, keeping his body heat close to him, wings pinned to his body.
Inhaling and stepping over the border, the canine trod towards camp with a steely glint in his eyes. Stepping foot into camp after a while of traversing, the white pelted male lowered the hood of the lion pelt, it's thick fur settling against his fur roughly, his breath misting his muzzle now. "I'm back. This place looks like it's been in a tough spot ...", he spoke softly as faces peered from the caves towards him. Shuddering from a chill, wondering when spring would come.
[align=center]"speech" .. 'thoughts' .. attack
attack in #7A8B8B. -- BECOME A TABOO!
[member=11].[/member]teef + help from [member=11].[/member]psy