M. Twilight [Death]

Regner Vilhelmsen · 07-11-2012, 01:27 PM

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WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

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Dated the 10th

Word Count :: +501

Regner awoke to pain and confusion, a searing pain in his chest causing him to instinctively try and curl in on himself and an odd wetness to his muzzle with no cause that he could think off. His chest had been hurting for quite a while and he had been expecting some extra pain from the blow he had taken the day before but he wasn’t prepared for the sheer intensity of it, causing even the hardened warrior to cry out when he shifted badly.

His eyes flicked downwards and filled with a rising sense of dread as he beheld the section of the bed where his muzzle had rested; completely soaked in blood. Even as he tried to think, figure out what was happening and how to cure it a series of coughs splattered the rest of the bed, the red liquid flowing easily from his mouth as the coughs came.

Regner tried to leave the bed but fell unexpectedly to the floor, he was in Lupus form – he didn’t remember changing forms before he slept – and the angle of the fall made him land straight on his chest. Regner blacked out from the pain that now welled up, body dropping onto the mercifully soft material of his bed.

When he came to his mind was fuzzy but one fact was clear, he was about to die. This wasn’t the slow, distant sense of his own morality that he had gained the last month or two but something more immediate. Regner tried to ignore the blood pooling where his muzzle had lay and forced himself to his feet. He didn’t want to die inside, the thought pushed itself into his addled mind, cementing itself there and giving him motivation, he wanted to die outside in the sun, not trapped inside some human structure.

It was a testament to Regner’s will power that he managed to make it outside of the courthouse. The day was in that middling time where it was too late to catch the morning rush of wolves but too early to catch those who returned for dinner so his path had been clear of anybody else, though the trail of blood he left behind him would make it easy to track. Somewhere along the road his mind had chosen the river as its destination and he forced himself forwards, teeth grinding together at the pain every step brought.

Eventually enough was enough and a scarce few feet away from the river a jolt to his ribs sent him sprawling on the ground. Regner tried to move but he suddenly felt tired and his legs refused to respond no matter how much he strained to move them. Defeated Regner let his head flop to the ground and whined, eyes gazing longingly at the water just out of his reach. There was little he could do to reach it though, or indeed do much else, so Regner just lay there, broken chest heaving and blood bubbling from his mouth.

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