bridges I've been dreaming going down
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Marked this as the thread where he loses his arm because I know a lot of people were interested in reading it. Post-dated to February 8, the last day of the snowstorm plot. For my darling Kris!

The past few days had been some of the most taxing of his amnesiac life; in the midst of snow and storm he had watched in shock as his home's roof uprooted and plowed ever-so-gracefully into whole of the barn. He had dragged Xeris from the debris and wreckage, fearing for her life; not even his call for help had been answered in all the snow and wind, and the male had treated her himself. He watched Eagle Tower fall with own eye, the collapse of the Mill; he watched the desolation of a white wasteland without any color. The storm was the worst to hit Phoenix Valley in all his years as leader, the worst disaster he had ever been charged with managing. And still, the snow had yet to stop.


He could not stay in the ranch, not with half the roof amongst the wreckage of the barn and the livestock corpses that were consequently also trapped somewhere underneath. He could not even dwell in that place, not for long. Where was Geneva? Pripyat? Where were his underlings, and were they safe? The male could not stay in one place. No, he had to keep moving, had to keep searching for everyone and anyone and make sure his members were safe. They were his responsibility. He was their guardian, their Captain, their Patriarch. No amount of scars and wounds would hold him back from protecting what he held most dear: Phoenix Valley. It was for that reason Iskata had left it to him.


But the wind picked up, and the shards of ice caught in his one-eyed gaze. He could not bear on; his shouts for anyone to hear were drowned out by the wind. Ice and snow clung to his thick belt, stung against the bare skin of his scars, froze at his ears and toes and fingers. Anyone? he'd shout, surrounded in that unyielding whirlwind of white. Can anyone hear me? Geneva! Pripyat! Tyrone! Anyone!?


But it was useless. Frigid and shaking, he plowed himself through the heaps of snow and climbed up onto a porch of an abandoned cabin, the monster of a hybrid crawling through the front door and collapsing in tremors there on the floor. Frostbite, he feared to himself in silence on the floor amidst his frozen shivering. No, that couldn't hold him back either. A few coughs, then he swung his ankle out to slam the door shut behind him. He shook his pelt free of clinging snow as he clamored up onto his knees, ripping his sopping wet shirt and scarf from his shoulders. "Hello?" he barked to the empty house, a hopeful resonance in his shivering tone. "Anyone here?"

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