Oct 04 2018, 07:30 PM
Admittedly, he had stopped in Pisces for a short time, dunking himself in the icy waters in order to find some semblance of comfort. The prickling sensation of something underneath his skin had only grown worse between the Core and the trip home. Plus, there was nothing quite like dunking yourself completely underwater and sullying it with your own blood. Needless to say, Eythan managed to haphazardly clean himself before continuing on. The wounds on his neck managed to clot, outlined in a disgusting sanguine. So long as he didn’t move his head too abruptly, his bites would stay closed. The itching had gone away with the water as well, sated and flowing away as he scrubbed. If only a limp could be washed away, he had mused as he limped to an adequate lift-off place to stumble into flight.
The moment he got to Canis, Eythan swooped into the soothsayer’s den, landing tentatively. Limp disturbed, he winced. Nonetheless, he grit his teeth and found a clear spot off to the side. Not even two minutes passed before he essentially passed out, lying on his side with his wings every which way.
His dreams were… fitful, least to say. Despite the hollow warning to not think, the gryphon could do nothing but that, reliving every single moment leading up until now to his fullest capacity. His emergence alongside Carni, blissful innocence as the brothers united for the first time. While Eythan had managed to stay true to his original colors, the smaller of the duo had changed, anguished and harrowed by their father’s murder. But, from this anguish came a strange sort of corruption. Almost maddened, the albino had taken to the title of Bone King, spurred on by some creature that had appeared from nothing but woodwork. He wore a cape and mantle of the dead. Eythan had buried that cursed thing as soon as he could, much to his own gratitude. His father shouldn’t have died, lest he be disrespected so blatantly so. As for the black pelt, the griffon’s talons barely graced it long enough. It felt wrong to. Like it was his.
A dark face, hollowed out on one side, flickered into view for the barest of seconds. Then nothing. Eythan’s breathing hitched, a choking feeling rising in his gullet. Those horns were all he could see, they were banded, they were just like his—not quite as curved—but they were his—! Kicking out his legs, he disturbed a veritable menagerie of bones and awoke with a vicious start. The air was still for a moment as he greedily sucked in air. He looked around, hoping not to see the hyena disturbed by his frantic kicking and whining. Fortunately, she seemed to still be absent. The griffon sighed shakily, pushing himself onto his haunches."Sorry," he murmured unconsciously to the bones, trying to shift them back into their original positions. He stretched within the den, mindful of his limp, wings splaying out forwards. In search of a drink of water, he stumbled rather rebelliously from the soothsayer’s lair. The water wasn’t quite as clean as that of Pisces’s, but it would do. He’d have to manage it and wait.
Wait, wait, wait, Eythan reinforced to himself as he picked his way back to the den, plopping messily back in his spot. His eyes fixated on a miscellaneous curved bone in the little alcove, focusing on tracing every little shift in it. He needed to distract himself.
The moment he got to Canis, Eythan swooped into the soothsayer’s den, landing tentatively. Limp disturbed, he winced. Nonetheless, he grit his teeth and found a clear spot off to the side. Not even two minutes passed before he essentially passed out, lying on his side with his wings every which way.
His dreams were… fitful, least to say. Despite the hollow warning to not think, the gryphon could do nothing but that, reliving every single moment leading up until now to his fullest capacity. His emergence alongside Carni, blissful innocence as the brothers united for the first time. While Eythan had managed to stay true to his original colors, the smaller of the duo had changed, anguished and harrowed by their father’s murder. But, from this anguish came a strange sort of corruption. Almost maddened, the albino had taken to the title of Bone King, spurred on by some creature that had appeared from nothing but woodwork. He wore a cape and mantle of the dead. Eythan had buried that cursed thing as soon as he could, much to his own gratitude. His father shouldn’t have died, lest he be disrespected so blatantly so. As for the black pelt, the griffon’s talons barely graced it long enough. It felt wrong to. Like it was his.
A dark face, hollowed out on one side, flickered into view for the barest of seconds. Then nothing. Eythan’s breathing hitched, a choking feeling rising in his gullet. Those horns were all he could see, they were banded, they were just like his—not quite as curved—but they were his—! Kicking out his legs, he disturbed a veritable menagerie of bones and awoke with a vicious start. The air was still for a moment as he greedily sucked in air. He looked around, hoping not to see the hyena disturbed by his frantic kicking and whining. Fortunately, she seemed to still be absent. The griffon sighed shakily, pushing himself onto his haunches.
Wait, wait, wait, Eythan reinforced to himself as he picked his way back to the den, plopping messily back in his spot. His eyes fixated on a miscellaneous curved bone in the little alcove, focusing on tracing every little shift in it. He needed to distract himself.
@Giggle