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04-10-2017, 03:10 PM
(This post was last modified: 05-04-2017, 09:09 PM by Zhu.
Edit Reason: added mature warning
)
This is wrong, and Gods if he knows it, but the ruthlessness is being sucked from his bones these days. Eyes still follow him like he's something to be feared, lingering at distances when something does catch his eye, pacing at the rear of a herd like the members of it will put up a good show for him, all of this carrying on until a point hits him where he loses the urge to flex his muscles that he has worked so hard for.
Everything that he has known, the wandering, the fighting, the haphazard caring fits for females and males that run into nothing after spending so long together, is falling apart. Life barely holds any purpose.
So, in his wallowing, resting somewhere far off where home is but a distant memory of his father's ambition and his mother's love and hardships, red sands and sea salt, a creature who can't keep a set skin, he makes the final decision.
The journey back itself is terrible. He hates every step of it, remembering how he must somehow conform once he returns, how he will have to discover a way to accept the constant accompaniment of anyone that dares to cross his path, but at least he can hope it will do something for him.
The actual return, though, is different from how he imagines it to be.
For what feels like the first time in his entire life, he finds himself hesitant, relying on thoughts and reason before he acts out. His hooves are shifting uncomfortably beneath him, long tail dragging over the earth as the ground takes hold of it, clinging weakly as if to ask him to stop. One fast rip upwards and brambles are hanging in it. He'll have to clean that out later.
Everything is so quiet, or maybe that's him, his ears swiveling at their best to find a grip on the birds, the wind, voices belonging to someone that he can harass into dragging him back south, because if his memory is correct, and it isn't always is, the only true way into the Dragon's Throat is via wings. No need for a check of the shoulders though, for he is aware that is something that will never happen.
Just do it already.
His conscious is betraying him. He's going to hate himself for it whenever the reality truly does set in, but that's for later times. Now, all he can manage is to take that first step, which is now currently being done as the life in this place whips it way back in, slamming him like a freight train to the chest.
"Megbasz."
OOC: crap post oops c':
SKULLFACES ONLY.
EDIT: RATED MATURE.
