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Sin - Official - 06-09-2012 Roanne the Sentinel March 19th, 2012 at 12:30am The great cat stalked through one of the most beautiful parts of that land looking tattered and beaten, with fresh scars adorning his jet black hide and showing the shimmering silver and red beneath. Shadow oozed from each step he took and emanated from the drops of blood that fell to the earth. His wounds from the sundering did not heal; either he did not let them or the curse kept them festering and foul. They stung as he took each step and burned as his bones pressed against skin and teased the bruises that had formed through several layers of thick skin. The shadows had done everything but take his life; most days he wished they'd done that too. For he'd lost his home and he'd lost all that he had loved. He'd lost his solidarity and purpose, and without all this he felt lost and feared the balance of his soul. It was a funny set of circumstances that kept him in possession of the thing at all, he would never have been shocked to lose it. And now? Well, he wasn't sure he would have been disappointed, either. He wasn't sure he'd even notice. He let the shadow of his magic dance around him in a tight swarm as his body fell to the ground and begged for rest while his mind yearned for more. But he was done- Roanne the Sentinel was no more; he had no herd to lead to glory, no Evangeline at his side, no Cassandra at his feet, no warriors at his back. He was the shifter on his own, a mere shadow of what he had once been. The sentinel with nothing left to protect, the father with nothing left to care for, the lover with nothing left to love. And suddenly he felt that pang of abandonment fresh and sorrowful as he recalled Giselle's betrayal and her loyalty to the sect. He felt betrayal from all sides, from everyone in his herd; why had they all run to hide from the shadows, or died in their wake? Why had so few stayed to fight and lived as he had? Why had so few kept their bravery and stayed strong as he had taught them? Anger burned fiery within him, dark shadow swirled around his feline form as he lay upon the meadow grounds smelling of old blood and a rotting corpse, but life stirred within him. He was not gone yet- there was something left in this life, he was sure of it. He just wasn't sure what. Mandrake April 7th, 2012 at 5:33am It was the scent of blood that drew Mandrake closer. It drifted on the wind, the aroma of it delicious and alluring. Her mouth watered as the scent grew stronger. Her feline form longed for the taste of it on her tongue, the feel of it thick and heavy on her fur. She ached for the thrill of the hunt, the glory of the kill, but there would be no thrill. No glory. The bleeding animal already smelled like it was close to death. She moved quietly through the underbrush before finally emerging in the meadow. Her elegant head lifted and she scented the air. He was close, the bleeding thing. Dinner. As she stalked through the grass she found the trail of blood he'd left behind and she followed it. Mild surprise gripped her when she finally found the downed animal and recognized it as none other than the panther form of her once great leader. "Roanne the Sentinel." The cat purred almost gleefully. Seeing him so close to death excited her. "I see you've not fared too well in the escape from Isilme." Mandrake circled around the panther, her cold eyes travelling over his body and lingering on various wounds. "Have you made it this far only to die?" |