[AW] [M] Vexing True Heroes
No CDC please. <3

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.

Specifically, this thread is marked mature because of: .
AW - No CDC members, or anyone that would deliver information about Nazar to CDC! Thank you!

[Image: NazLupus.png]The morning rain pelted his back, soaking in through the tattered fibers of his torn clothing and wetting him down to his skin. Rain rolled from his shoulders, ran down him in rivulets, leaving his edges decorated in the crystalline beads that refracted the sparse sun that peeked through the trees and fell like tears into the mud.

Heavy panting shook his chest, greasy strands of hair draping over his features. Blue sights were completely consumed with the work of his hands, the jingling of metal resounding from within them. A branch of hardwood, dotted in red, was put between the links of chain that attached to his leg in a shackle.

Nazar's wrestling halted sharply when movement came from the man that laid beside him. For a long drawn moment, he was frozen, curled over himself with a hand gripping the chains to silence them. He didn't dare to draw a breath until the other stilled, and after a moment passed, he furiously got back to work trying to pry the metal from his ankle.

The sharp crack of wood erupted from his hands, and the branch he'd been using as a pry bar had shattered into pieces. Splinters buried themselves into the skin of his calf, and he looked at the separate pieces, one in each hand. From one to the other his blue gaze danced, until his brows furrowed, his lips rose, and with a growl, he threw the branch away.

Relenting, he put his back to the bark of the tree behind him. Lifting his head, he closed his eyes and drew a long, bedraggled sigh, before his head dropped into his hands. There he say, quietly awaiting his fate, shackled to a post, by a man who may or may not be close to death thanks to the fresh red that dribbled from his head. A grumble rattled in his chest as he perched his elbows on his knees and drew his hands away from his face, knitting them in front of himself. His crown then fell, his muzzle facing downward to the earth below him.


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