05-27-2018, 04:22 AM
[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 55%; line-height:115%; text-align: justify;"]dying is easy, young man, living is harder — A meeting. He knew, collapsing on the outskirts of this land, this wasn't just a band of rogues living together. At least, not anymore. No, it was a society, and Nathanael had to respect their rules. He should be grateful for everything this band was providing him with: food, shelter, medical aid - he knew he'd be dead without them. Yet his paws moved with a lethargy that his aching bones alone were not responsible for, dulled claws scraping lazily against well trodden soil as Nathanael followed the gathering masses. The congregation slowed to a stop around a translucent feline. Of course Nathanael had heard of Beck - how could he fucking not. A brat, if rumors were to be given merit, and the Leader of this ragtag group. Oceanic eyes scanned the small crowd, heavily nicked ears flicking back as the poltergeist's scratchy voice reached him. His introductory words fell on deaf ears, but the use of his name caught the bandaged smooth collie's attention, head snapping up to rest on Beck as he informed Tanglewood of his weakened state.
Nathanael's gaze narrowed into thin slits as he came to a slow stop between Nayru and Iota, offering neither a greeting as he slid silently down into a tense sit, muscles pulled tight and ready to launch him away despite the pain that ignited his veins. Who did this small ass punk think he was announcing Nathanael's state to everyone? That was how the weak were culled, rusted links snapped from the chain - that would be how Nathanael would die a gory death to feed a group of strangers that had lulled him into a false sense of security. He had seen it happen before, he had been one of the strong before, but now he was reduced to the mercy of those surrounding him. Nathanael swallowed thickly, shifting bandaged legs to curl blunt claws into the earth. The rest of Beck's speech was lost in a deafening white noise between Nathanael's ears, consuming his thoughts and corrupting what small shreds of gratefulness the scarred canine had with anger and fear.
Nathanael hated the feeling of weakness.
Mentions of warnings, demotions, promotions - nothing that applied to Nathanael, staples of the society that made the collie even more of an outcast as if his attitude didn't distance him enough. Terms he didn't know, procedures he didn't understand, sitting in the shadow of creatures mightier than him in mind, body, and spirit. With meanings to their life, to their group, greater than being that of a bait dog. His lips slowly peeled back to reveal the beginnings of a snarl, a flash of ivory teeth that clearly displayed his discomfort against his will. Once Beck had concluded the meeting the pedigree was on his paws, trying to avoid bumping into those next to him for the sake of irritating his own wounds rather than offending them as he stumbled away from the dispersing crowd. Too much in one day, too much from too many people, Nathanael needed to go before he acted rash.
Nathanael's gaze narrowed into thin slits as he came to a slow stop between Nayru and Iota, offering neither a greeting as he slid silently down into a tense sit, muscles pulled tight and ready to launch him away despite the pain that ignited his veins. Who did this small ass punk think he was announcing Nathanael's state to everyone? That was how the weak were culled, rusted links snapped from the chain - that would be how Nathanael would die a gory death to feed a group of strangers that had lulled him into a false sense of security. He had seen it happen before, he had been one of the strong before, but now he was reduced to the mercy of those surrounding him. Nathanael swallowed thickly, shifting bandaged legs to curl blunt claws into the earth. The rest of Beck's speech was lost in a deafening white noise between Nathanael's ears, consuming his thoughts and corrupting what small shreds of gratefulness the scarred canine had with anger and fear.
Nathanael hated the feeling of weakness.
Mentions of warnings, demotions, promotions - nothing that applied to Nathanael, staples of the society that made the collie even more of an outcast as if his attitude didn't distance him enough. Terms he didn't know, procedures he didn't understand, sitting in the shadow of creatures mightier than him in mind, body, and spirit. With meanings to their life, to their group, greater than being that of a bait dog. His lips slowly peeled back to reveal the beginnings of a snarl, a flash of ivory teeth that clearly displayed his discomfort against his will. Once Beck had concluded the meeting the pedigree was on his paws, trying to avoid bumping into those next to him for the sake of irritating his own wounds rather than offending them as he stumbled away from the dispersing crowd. Too much in one day, too much from too many people, Nathanael needed to go before he acted rash.
first i felt faded, then it got loud: next i was wasted, then i blacked out
said ❝damn, gotta get sober❞ but it always starts right over