01-02-2012, 02:11 PM
Nightmares. :3
706
He slept soundly through the knock at the door that drew his pseudo mate's attention and that of their children. His day had been hard, stressful, tiring. Especially with the anvil weight of grief that seemed to multiply no matter how much he tried to shove it off. This grief was coming from everywhere, Saxif's disappearance, the death of his children, the nagging of Io and Aeron's hatred of him. His isolation from all of his friends and family, the emotional wall that now seemed to separate him from everyone else out there. He swore, he was not a monster, not like he seemed to be thought of. In his sleep he twitched and trembled, uncomfortable on his bed of pelts. Deep down into the darkness he was swallowed, kicking and screaming the entire way.
He opened his eyes to a bloody tinted dream world, the slick life fluid coated everything including his own body. Blood dripped from any place it could well up enough to gain the weight to fall from his tall body. The origin of it was unknown. There were no tears in his once brown pelt, no tears or gaping wounds from which it could pour. There was no scent be beheld except that of copper and salt, his olfactory senses could not pierce the fog of scent that obscured all else. It even hung in great shimmers within the very air, tiny sprays of droplets that floated about. It was hard but not impossible to see through although once he had the Austral man had wished he had not. He moved through the suspended liquid faster than he could have ever done in real life,
A hellish shout came from his as he stopped in front of the gruesome display. The origin of the blood was now known to him. White orbs fell onto the visage, row after row of pikes had been drive into the ground, on top of each pike a head was mounted and further down it the body rested, skewered like an animal to be cooked. Bile rose up his throat as the lifeless eyes of his sons, of Io, of Aeron, Adwen, Saxif, his mother and father, J'adore, Isla, Arena, Analise, Ralla, Ayasha, everyone he had ever cared about, their lifeless eyes stared back at him. The man pitched to the side and vomited into the bloody puddles that covered the floor. Blood that had come from them, Blood that covered him! He furiously attempted to wipe it off, to get it away from him but only succeeded in smearing it further into his coat. Crimson coated hands flew to his head and grasped handfuls of black hair, claws digging into his scalp. He couldn't move, couldn't breath, the world was spinning around him, the heads now grinning at him, filled with evil and demonic blackness.
He woke with a sharp breath inwards as the voice of Jandro woke him from his slumber. He had managed to roll himself from his bed and had cut himself upon the ragged boards of the floor. The wound on his lip bled little but he could taste its coppery slickness and waves of sickness rose. He struggled to squash it back down. Jandro frowned as his father breathed heavily and looked very sad. The boy tumbled up to him and nuzzled him with a yip of concern. The Austral man laid an earthen hand upon his small son's back, the child looked up at him,
"DA, ma want." Inwardly the man growled and groaned, he did not want to see her, even if she did want him. But on the outside a small smile touched his lips and he spoke to his son in spanish,
"Really? Well we better go see what's up then." He picked his child up and held him in his arms as he crossed the corridor to Io and Aeron's room. He knocked on the door once to signify his arrival and pushed it open, stepping into the room. His eyes were tired from his nightmares as he called out,
"Io?" While there was some genuine concern, whatever she had to tell him could affect his children, as for them affecting her.. well he could scarcely care less.
706
He slept soundly through the knock at the door that drew his pseudo mate's attention and that of their children. His day had been hard, stressful, tiring. Especially with the anvil weight of grief that seemed to multiply no matter how much he tried to shove it off. This grief was coming from everywhere, Saxif's disappearance, the death of his children, the nagging of Io and Aeron's hatred of him. His isolation from all of his friends and family, the emotional wall that now seemed to separate him from everyone else out there. He swore, he was not a monster, not like he seemed to be thought of. In his sleep he twitched and trembled, uncomfortable on his bed of pelts. Deep down into the darkness he was swallowed, kicking and screaming the entire way.
He opened his eyes to a bloody tinted dream world, the slick life fluid coated everything including his own body. Blood dripped from any place it could well up enough to gain the weight to fall from his tall body. The origin of it was unknown. There were no tears in his once brown pelt, no tears or gaping wounds from which it could pour. There was no scent be beheld except that of copper and salt, his olfactory senses could not pierce the fog of scent that obscured all else. It even hung in great shimmers within the very air, tiny sprays of droplets that floated about. It was hard but not impossible to see through although once he had the Austral man had wished he had not. He moved through the suspended liquid faster than he could have ever done in real life,
A hellish shout came from his as he stopped in front of the gruesome display. The origin of the blood was now known to him. White orbs fell onto the visage, row after row of pikes had been drive into the ground, on top of each pike a head was mounted and further down it the body rested, skewered like an animal to be cooked. Bile rose up his throat as the lifeless eyes of his sons, of Io, of Aeron, Adwen, Saxif, his mother and father, J'adore, Isla, Arena, Analise, Ralla, Ayasha, everyone he had ever cared about, their lifeless eyes stared back at him. The man pitched to the side and vomited into the bloody puddles that covered the floor. Blood that had come from them, Blood that covered him! He furiously attempted to wipe it off, to get it away from him but only succeeded in smearing it further into his coat. Crimson coated hands flew to his head and grasped handfuls of black hair, claws digging into his scalp. He couldn't move, couldn't breath, the world was spinning around him, the heads now grinning at him, filled with evil and demonic blackness.
He woke with a sharp breath inwards as the voice of Jandro woke him from his slumber. He had managed to roll himself from his bed and had cut himself upon the ragged boards of the floor. The wound on his lip bled little but he could taste its coppery slickness and waves of sickness rose. He struggled to squash it back down. Jandro frowned as his father breathed heavily and looked very sad. The boy tumbled up to him and nuzzled him with a yip of concern. The Austral man laid an earthen hand upon his small son's back, the child looked up at him,
"DA, ma want." Inwardly the man growled and groaned, he did not want to see her, even if she did want him. But on the outside a small smile touched his lips and he spoke to his son in spanish,
"Really? Well we better go see what's up then." He picked his child up and held him in his arms as he crossed the corridor to Io and Aeron's room. He knocked on the door once to signify his arrival and pushed it open, stepping into the room. His eyes were tired from his nightmares as he called out,
"Io?" While there was some genuine concern, whatever she had to tell him could affect his children, as for them affecting her.. well he could scarcely care less.