the Rift


[OPEN] The Weight of Fate

Sacre Posts: 274
World's Edge Emissary atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 5 Years HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Inari :: Red Fox :: Heal & Ríona :: Common Kitsune :: Electric imi
#1
Sacre
Making his way through the blood red forest, Sacre was exploring the now dormant woodland in the midst of Frostfall, it was chilly, even the winds from the north prevailed through the branches, licking his thick fur and wrapping his tail around his legs as he stood with his back to it. He was wondering how the forest had gotten so red, whether it was something to do with the stone or the fauna that grew here. Maybe the Gods had decided it should be the colour of crimson and thus the forest had obeyed the command—blushing furiously. It was quiet and it gave Sacre time to his thoughts that flicked from topics like family to friends to the pain in his heart that was dull and constant. 

It was true that most days Sacre was happy, genuinely happy, it wasn't a facade to trick the masses, why should he lie anyway? Yet, sometimes, when he thought about stuff—it all got to him. His mum, his sister, his father, his twin brother, yet what was really bothering him the most these days was anger and how to control it. It lead him to think about his father, his mind and the madness that infected it, so often Sacre wondered if there would come a day when he would be like d'Artagnan. If he let what annoyed him the most run away with him, if he let the small part of him that hated the world for the deaths of his dam and his sister, would he become a monster just like his father? 

If this was true, did that mean that once upon a time, many nightmares ago, his father had been... like him? Carefree... Happy. For some reason the thought made him sad, regretfully sad, that he may never have gotten chance to meet a less haunted d'Artagnan. Instead, his father's image was marred by the sins against life he had committed under the influence of his prejudices.

Sighing, Sacre came to a halt next to a cluster of nude trees, shifting his precious cargo of foxes that were sat in the grove of his back, snoozing. At least sleep kept the two beloved creatures away from listening to the troubling thoughts in the fox-boy's mind. 

In boredom and for something to do, he began to scratch his neck on an innocent tree, enjoying its rough texture against his fur.

On the day that you were born the angels got together,
and decided to create a dream come true

for @Tiamat <3


There's something wretched about this
Something so precious about this

❚ Force permitted!
❚ Please tag me!


Messages In This Thread
The Weight of Fate - by Sacre - 11-11-2016, 06:46 PM
RE: The Weight of Fate - by Tiamat - 11-12-2016, 07:14 PM
RE: The Weight of Fate - by Sacre - 11-16-2016, 07:22 AM

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