I tried carrying the weight of the world

but I only have two hands

POSTED: Fri Jul 12, 2019 1:44 am

я буду звездой

There was no sleeping for him, not when the Most Important thing loomed so close, a shadow over his bed that kept his eyes wide awake. The novelty of having his very own hands had still yet to wear thin, Temnota shifted onto his side, clutching the edge of the pelt in his fingers, softly stroking the downy fur.

The weight of all those rocks in his stomach, wrapped about his neck, they were crushing and after a while his breaths came fast and shallow and shaky

Unwilling to wake his family, Temnota slipped out and away, with the wooden sword he'd borrowed from the armory. There was a little place that was clear and free where he could practice. The clear star-filled sky was his only companion, a great big moon shining down on him. Temnota breathed quickly, with thin breaths taken, hands curled into fists at his sides.

In his hand, the sword felt all wrong. No matter which way he gripped it, it didn't fit, or settle properly like бабушка said. So he tried a two-handed grip again, and that felt even Wronger. Temnota choked back his own tears, stubbornly not allowing them to fall. He couldn't cry, not when the good Kings of the past looked down at him from their starry paradise, imagine how they'd think of him!

It had to be this though, it had to! He was resolute, even as he suffocated in his own despair. Still, he plunged on, turning and hacking at invisible opponents with nothing of finesse or style, with no sense of true swordsmanship. It was no good, he knew he was no good, and they had tried to teach him, and he was letting them all down.

Until he was huffing and his chest heaving did he keep going, until he had to stop to cough and drag in lungfuls of air.

Wide, hetero-chromatic eyes looked up at the night's sky, and could no longer help their watering. Their faces were a reel in his mind, and he could picture each disappointed face, every frown as it was set upon himself. Tem's sobs were quiet, simple things, a child lost in the traversal of an adult world for the first time.

Mama, are you up there? I need your help, please.. I can't do this. Give me something, anything, a sign? Please.

If his Mama really was there, she didn't answer him now, no more than she had answered him any of the other times in the past. The sword hung limply in his fingers. He rubbed at his face with the other, angrily brushing away the tears. They wouldn't help him either.

Tomorrow was his First Blood, and Temnota knew without a doubt that he was going to fail.

Dated late Aug | [wc — 300] template by hilli
Last edited by Temnota Hushhowl on Wed Aug 07, 2019 9:38 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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POSTED: Thu Aug 01, 2019 10:38 pm

It didn't take long for Pushok to notice that his blood brother was missing from his side. As odd eyes opened to the sudden feeling of a lacking presence, he blinked around the dark room, groggy and half alert. It took some time, but it wasn't long until he'd recognized what was wrong. Temnota wasn't beside him. Curious and confused features painted his expression as he slid off of the furs and sought his brother about the room. Nothing. Not even a scuffle or a whisper came in the darkness.

Sure, he liked to dip off into the night, but Temnota? It didn't strike him as so common. Perhaps, that was because he didn't often sleep at home.

A small glance was offered to their father, watching as the healed Officer slept. A deep breath came in before he released it quietly. The world was getting more complicated by the day, wasn't it?

Stepping from the denhouse, his great sword in his hand, he searched around the lazy hearth that crackled in the night. It's light cast long shadows into the trees, but it's smoke wasn't enough to cover the fresh scent left by his brother in the night. Waffling the air into the black tip of his muzzle, he snaked around a bit before finding Temnota's direction, and it didn't take long at all to track him down after that.

Seeing his dark brother, his shoulders all but fell. Ears flat. Corners of his maw aimed at the earth below. Deep in his chest, he felt a weight he had thoroughly ignored throughout his life. He took that energy that tried to bring him down, and with it he powered his determination.

“Темнота,” Pushok's voice had never been so quiet under the moon,” Ты плачешь,” He said simply. It was probably obvious, but he didn't want his brother to feel bad. He wanted to help, in any way he could. Hushed, his padfall came to Temnota's side. Knelt beside his brother, his friend, he laid his sword down and put his hand on that obsidian shoulder,” Могу ли я помочь?”


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POSTED: Wed Aug 07, 2019 10:44 pm

я буду звездой

He tried to get a hold on his breathing, and then he heard the sound of approaching footsteps and the small horror and embarrassment flared in his chest, along with the choking tightness. The signs of his crying could not be washed away in mere seconds.

Tem's back stiffened up straight, standing rim-rod and stared off into the forest. Of course it was Pushok who had come to find him. The one who noticed he was missing -- he was both glad and ashamed.

"Пушок." He spoke, in a strained fashion. When had the world grown so.. strange.

Flinching as Pushok touched him,

"да уж... Это не хорошо." He murmured, a hotness behind his eyes trying to make the tears come again, he held them back only just and wiped his hand across his nose.

Just kneeling here until the dawn came seemed like it would be a good idea, but he needed to practice more.

"Покажите мне больше, мне нужно попробовать еще раз." Now he got to his feet and hefted the wrong feeling sword in his left hand, eyes pleading at Pushok to somehow make it right for him -- even already knowing in the futility of it.

Dated late Aug | [wc — 000] template by hilli
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POSTED: Fri Aug 16, 2019 12:10 am

It gnawed at his soul how Temnota spoke his name with the sadness in his note and frustration in his eye. In the wince that his darker brother showed, he pulled his hand away as if he'd harmed him in some way. He had to be careful with his brother,” Мне жаль,” Pushok's apologized. He couldn't see any pain on Temnota's body, but it was very clear that he was in pain. It reminded him of the way Отец's eyes looked sometimes. Shoulders lost their edges as he drooped in respect for Temnota.

It certainly wasn't good.

Pushok wasn't any good at this kind of stuff, either, but he'd move the heavens and earth if it was what Temnota wanted.

All of him perked up with determination as his brother and best friend asked him for drills. Silver tipped ears lifted high above his crown as he nodded with courage to fill the gaps where Temnota needed work the most. He came to his feet as quickly as he could rise, bringing the wooden blade into his own hands, pointed at the earth with the hilt at his waist.

It was a stark contrast that he couldn't recognize. As strong hands gripped his weapon, Pushok's corded forearms and biceps wrapped brawny arms. The weight of the great sword in his possession strengthened not only his arms, but his shoulders, his back, his legs. The training, day after day, only resting when he couldn't move, molded his body into a fit example of a young warrior in training. Temnota's frame, however, couldn't match it. Pushok simply took it as that's the way Temnota grew and never came to realize why their bodies were growing so differently.

The light pelted boy also didn't take for account that the technique for a sword and a great sword, were different.

“В обе руки. Как это. Прямо сверху,” He instructed. Right hand, like Honrin said, should be on top. He found himself miming the words that Jace, Honrin and Teagan had all instilled in him. The basics were second nature by now. All he had to do was translate it from action, into words,” Ноги разделены. Как это. Подними свой меч. Укажите на это дерево. Это должно быть плоским. Подними локоть вверх. Как это,” He rattled off, positioning himself in time with his words, pausing so Temnota could see, and copy him,” Держите это устойчивым, сначала. Тогда сбей это!


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POSTED: Fri Aug 16, 2019 12:43 am

я буду звездой

It hurt so badly, this failingness of himself; And he knew for sure it was his own fault. These last few days until their would show the rest what they could do, Temnota had been hiding from his lessons, shamed and anxiety crawling up his throat. He thought he imagined the weight of their disappointment upon his shoulders already and it dragged him so far down.

"Это не твоя вина." The words stuck in his throat, but he forced them out. Pushok was not the one at fault, it was himself, something was wrong... broken in himself. He could see what Pushok could not, that the pale brother was growing stronger, larger, with each day that passed and Temnota was falling behind, being forgotten.

Temnota let himself borrow his brother's determination, for all of his own had seeped away when he wasn't looking. For Pushok, he could get himself up off of the floor, and stand again, like a Hushhowl should.

Damp still wetted his cheeks, but no longer did he cry. Tem look a breath and swallowed past the lump in his throat. Together, they could do this together.

"Хорошо." He muttered, copying the advice that Pushok gave him, switching hands even though that felt even more wrong. His brother knew better than he did.

And Temnota followed every piece of advice that his pale sibling gave him, in spite of the differences, in spite of its wrongness -- in spite of the fact that his suggestions were erroneous and would only set Temnota back further. This could not be known by either boys, Pushok was crippling his brother with bad guidance.

He widened his stance, and this created an awkwardness that he also ignored, gripping the sword as Pushok demonstrated. It felt awfully off balanced but everything so far had already felt so wrong that Temnota didn't know the difference.

Any outsider with the barest knowledge of fighting with blades would have seen the inaccuracy, seen the failings in Temnota. Pushok was doing a perfectly serviceable job explaining how to fight with a great sword, the only problem was Tem was not using a great sword.

Dated late Aug | [wc — 000] template by hilli
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