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Post by The Chronic Dragon on Jul 20, 2009 2:20:58 GMT -5
A hooded figure sprinted through the underbrush. The hood was drawn tight against the cold as he ran on, his rapid breaths crystallizing in the air before him. He stopped, alert, as if listening for something. Then, a sharp movement to his left. He flipped around, firing three arrows from a crossbow in its direction, and saw a dog in mid-leap fly back into the bushes. Without a word, he holstered the weapon and continued on his way.
In the bushes, the hound rasped and gurgled in its throat as it struggled for air. Finally, it gave up the struggle. The dead dog was soon surrounded by a cluster of others, pining in the at the side of their lost comrade. Then, a group of men emerged from behind them. "Oh no." one gasped. "Looks like Emrick found our prize." said another bittersweetly, shaking his head. "Now's not the time for grieving. He's getting away!" a man with a black beard urged. "He's right. Let's go." said another. He nodged the dogs away. After some persuasion they continued following the tracks.
The hooded figure had sprinted for miles. The first traces of sunlight were peeking up over the tops of the distant mountains. The figure dug a small den into the side of a berm and nestled inside. The figure removed his hood. He appeared to be a young boy no older than eight. He had black hair and pale skin. Strangely, the boy also had sharply pointed ears, and oddly shaped pupils like those of a cat. A bundle securly fastened to his chest squirmed slightly, adjusting itself, revealing the face of a baby. A face almost identical to that of the boy.
Rummaging in his bag, he removed a small bottle. The baby reached for it. He looked sadly at the baby. "Don't worry little brother." he said, with an intelligence to his words that far surpassed his age. He gave the baby the drink. "You're far too important. I won't let them take you. I'll get you to safety," he said. The baby yawned and closed its eyes. A single tear ran down the boy's cheek as he continued to speak, "Even if I can't come with you."
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Post by The Chronic Dragon on Dec 18, 2011 21:17:31 GMT -5
At the moment, Merri was busy fuming over his lot in life. He never really understood why he grew up in Sanctuary Grove. It wasn't a barrel of laughs being the only one of your kind. Nor did it help that he looked so human that everyone was afraid of him, even though he wasn't one. Humans didn't tend to come around Sanctuary Grove, but he'd heard enough to know they, unlike himself, had rounded ears and circular pupils. Why his family saw fit to leave him among creatures completely unlike him was infuriating. Sure, he had a vague story from the caretakers about the night he was left there and a note from his brother saying all the usual crap like "This is so hard. You won't believe how hard this is for me. Difficult. Painful. BLAH." Look, if keeping him was such a problem they could just say as much. The note told the caretakers to name him Merreon, which was a god-awful name for a dog, let alone a... whatever the hell he was. That was another thing: the note named him but didn't bother to specify what he was? He wasn't feeling too forgiving today, not when he was stuck shearing the pougles.
Merri hated pougles, anyone who spent a modicum of time with the leggy furballs hated them. Small, stocky bodies with incredibly soft fur and eight, hooved legs. The Grove needed the fur, it was the biggest source of income for the institution, but it would help if the animal wasn't so damn annoying. Granted, he thought seeing Argin chasing the last one, at least I don't have to actually catch them. Tackling it to the ground, Argin got up and dusted himself off. Argin ducked into the shearing house and put the last pougle in the pen with the others. Wiping sweat from his scaly brow, he collapsed onto one of the chairs against the wall opposite Merri. "I've always wondered why golgens sweat," Merri commented off-handedly, not looking up from his work. He'd made the observation before, just never voiced it. Argin shrugged, "I didn't create me so I couldn't tell you." He stretched and let out an exasperated sigh. "You're usually not this tired. What gives?" Merri asked. "I've been up since before sunrise. Bel was sick so I had to feed the chickens. What's worse, I have a date with Virreen tonight," Argin said. Merri swapped pougles, with some difficulty, placing the finished one in the pen which led back outside. "Where to?" Merri asked, shoving the question as to why it was worse to the back of his mind. "Felgrass, we're going to see a play," Argin said. "Sounds nice and relaxing," Merri said, "Why is that bad? Going to a play sounds pretty good to me." "That's because you don't have to leave early to shop for a nice outfit matching your scales," Argin said. Merri swapped pougles again. "Blue should be easy to find," he said. "Blue is exactly what I don't want. Do you know how stupid I would look? Virreen would laugh in my face," Argin said. "She wouldn't do that. She really likes you. You should know that, you've been courting her for months," Merri said. "Yeah, you're right. I shouldn't worry so much," Argin said. Looking to the entrance, he saw the sun and hoisted himself up with a grunt. "I'd better head out. Need any help before I go?" Argin asked. "Yeah. Can you shut the inlet gate on your way out? I need to transfer the flock back over," Merri said. "Can do," Argin said. At the doorway he ducked, but then halted, sweeping back inside. "Listen Merri, I wanted to talk to you about something," Argin said seriously. Merri looked up, not expecting the grim tone. "You've been awfully quiet lately. Is something bothering you?" Argin asked. Merri fell silent. He was normally withdrawn, so Argin saying he'd been more so meant he'd been dwelling on his family more than he thought. Had he really been that obvious about it? In any case, his friend was about to enjoy an evening with his girlfriend, he didn't need Argin worrying about him. "No, my throat's just been sore," Merri said and faked a smile. Argin hung on the banister for a second. It was clear he wasn't buying the lie, but then he sighed and ducked back under the entryway. "Jivea should have something for that. Have a good night Merri," he said quietly.
Merri wished him the same, and sheared the rest of the pougles in silence. He left, shutting off the vibrating platform which filtered the fur being tubed to the enrichment center. He shut off the lights, closed the oak door, jumped the fence to transfer the flock to their field, and then trekked back to the living quarters. In the light of the sunset, he had to appreciate how beautiful the grove was; in fact it was one of the few things he appreciated about his life.
Grass spanned across the hilly plain, interspersed with trees. In the distance the lake glistened in the dying light, reflecting the brilliant colors of the sky. On all sides, thick forest stretching far into the hills to the west and beyond up into the mountains shrouded in mist. The entrance was gated and overgrown with trees. He couldn't see it from where he was, but in his mind's eye he could picture the colonnade of deciduous trees, now orange in the onset of autumn, cast in shadow by the setting sun. The most beautiful thing was the abundance of flowers. In all colors they flourished and uplifted his spirits. Despite his family's heinous choice to abandon him, they had at least picked an aesthetically beautiful place.
By the time he reached the patio in front of his apartment there was barely a sliver of sunlight left. Once inside he placed the key on the dresser and fell onto his bed. Perhaps lying to Argin wasn't the best idea. Now his friend would be wondering what was really wrong with him instead of focusing on Virreen. At the moment, he hadn't thought of that, he just didn't want to deal with his emotions. Feeling alone, despite the few friends he had, was horrible. One might expect him to have been bullied, and as a child he was. However, as he and his peers grew they left him completely alone.
Which was worse. At least with them taunting him, he felt he belonged in an abstract way. After primary learning, literally no one paid him any attention. He was avoided like a disease by everyone but the three caretakers, and even they were wary of him. Constantly he was reminded that he shouldn't be there. Completely and utterly out of place, an outcast. Alone. He'd run through this again and again and it never stopped. Not even as he fell asleep and the message ran on repeat through his head: "You are alone. Completely alone."
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