08-19-2018, 12:09 AM
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;letter-spacing:.1px"]His lungs are filled with some kind of venom. The spread is slow but insistent, inexorable; some black tar that burned through every kinder thought he has. It makes breathing difficult with its weight, its too-full emptiness.
He's well aware of the fact that it shouldn't be where it is, but if you tell yourself a lie long enough, apparently you start to feel it. Grief and guilt and anger still wrap around each other and coil into the poison he feels everywhere. No matter how many times he tells himself now that it wasn't his fault — it was asked of him, it was necessary — the days that stretch on without any sign of Gabriel are getting to him. Part of him wants to wander off to the weird pirate island he'd gone to, but in the end he knows that it could cause more trouble for the hybrid. He has no idea how his adoptive dad is settling in, or if he was even okay. It would have made more sense for him to stay back and wait for news, his return, something. Anything. But the poison in his chest kept him from speaking to anyone, avoiding every breathing creature like the plague.
Leaving had been intentional, a choice that he made. There was no denying that or shifting the blame. His choice, his results. But he hadn't intended to end up here. The hot sun beats down on the Cane Corso's back, his dark fur trapping the heat in close. It leaves him panting, and every step burns the pads of his paws a little more. To say that Lazarus was lost would be an understatement, but there are scent markers, borders. This place smells like people. Since that was one of the few lessons he'd managed to learn flawlessly, the mutated canine hesitates here. He stands with his stance wide to support tired legs, completely unaware of what he's about to find.
Clear his head, clear his head, that had been the only goal in his mind when he set out. Fix it and go back to the other place he lived, get this poison out of his chest. Now it seemed that could turn into something else entirely.
He's well aware of the fact that it shouldn't be where it is, but if you tell yourself a lie long enough, apparently you start to feel it. Grief and guilt and anger still wrap around each other and coil into the poison he feels everywhere. No matter how many times he tells himself now that it wasn't his fault — it was asked of him, it was necessary — the days that stretch on without any sign of Gabriel are getting to him. Part of him wants to wander off to the weird pirate island he'd gone to, but in the end he knows that it could cause more trouble for the hybrid. He has no idea how his adoptive dad is settling in, or if he was even okay. It would have made more sense for him to stay back and wait for news, his return, something. Anything. But the poison in his chest kept him from speaking to anyone, avoiding every breathing creature like the plague.
Leaving had been intentional, a choice that he made. There was no denying that or shifting the blame. His choice, his results. But he hadn't intended to end up here. The hot sun beats down on the Cane Corso's back, his dark fur trapping the heat in close. It leaves him panting, and every step burns the pads of his paws a little more. To say that Lazarus was lost would be an understatement, but there are scent markers, borders. This place smells like people. Since that was one of the few lessons he'd managed to learn flawlessly, the mutated canine hesitates here. He stands with his stance wide to support tired legs, completely unaware of what he's about to find.
Clear his head, clear his head, that had been the only goal in his mind when he set out. Fix it and go back to the other place he lived, get this poison out of his chest. Now it seemed that could turn into something else entirely.
[align=center]
｢ GRAVE DIGGER, GRAVE DIGGER. [url=https://beastsofbeyond.com/index.php?topic=7333.msg48711#msg48711]INFO. ｣