Blur like a rocket

POSTED: Wed Feb 13, 2019 4:16 am

Bd to recently after Inferni disbandment


The heat of the day had lifted things to new heights. Up and over the calm and cool, and when he saw her emerge from the bristly fingers of the evergreens, her hunting pack empty, he knew. He knew the face well, because he'd seen it reflected a hundred or more times each just as palpable, just as fear inducing. It was the face of an Avarice, the look of the blazing sun or a wave roaring and warm. He crawled out from the tent under the red gaze of the Quebecois, and when he emerged the summer light made his eyes squint and water. He stretched out his four paws—one more cautiously than the rest. With the summer at his back he yawned, and looked up to see her there. “I'm glad you're enjoying your nap,” she spat, her accent bleeding into her words, and this made his ears begin their wobble.

Virue's eyes were still asleep, caught in a groggy haze, and as he blinked away the fog he could see her getting less and less patient.
“W-w-what?” He stammered, his voice a cloud.
Rialu frowned, crossed her arms. “Whu-whu-whu-whaaat?” She mocked sharply. The noise of the forest suddenly nosedived, into the bushes, the scene of the pair. It had felt like this before, but never like this at the same time. The feeling of weight, the pressure of her, it threatened, but he made sure to look her in the eye. “R-Ri, wh-whatever y-you're ups—”

“Upset?! Ohh Virue, always so sweet and kind, trying to find why I'm so ‘u-u-upset’!” Rialu finished her second volley of mimicry, her coy look shining like the end of a barrel. She let up a laugh. “Oh my Virue you need to grow the fuck up already. That pretty little world you knew is gone. We're all that's left.” She threw out her arms, let them settle at her sides. “I can't use you to help hunt, you can't run, you can't smell sacre bleu! And when I talk to you, you can't sp-sp-sp-speak!” Then it all just folded together into something so horribly familiar it could have been a re-run; all crackly and classical. Rialu turned away, looked into the forest, and when she turned her mouth was caught open to show well-groomed teeth, and eyes tired and shadowed from the woes of the world. All darkened and sinister, but a tad tawny and sour like a story gone wrong. “I don't need you here,” Rialu told him, her voice stiff, blank, “you should leave, you should leave right now and when you come back I won't be here.”

Not again. “N-no,” he replied, sternly. "No Dad." And by the time he realized what he'd done, she was on him. The huntress was tall and strong, and she brought him against a tree, her teeth bared and her snout crumpled as she held him there to look down helplessly at her violent stare. Straight down the barrel, his legs dangling. “Virue. I'm leaving, back to Quebec.” she stopped, looked down, back up. “I never want to see you again.”

“Dad...I didn't mean…”

Oceans plain and waxed over. “Not your—”

And then there was the gunshot—and Virue crumpled to the ground as ailing sparks of pain leapt across the side of his face.

Rialu gripped his tensed shoulders. He snarled, gurgling out whimpers. Flashing teeth, and when Rialu finally let her best friend go he leapt into her chest in a harsh growl that echoed through trees, caused birds to up and go. They both fell, and they remained there with him standing over her with a look of dismay, breathing heavy like he almost did something irreversible, but couldn't have. Rialu glanced at his face. “I...I should go.” The orange hybrid rolled out from beneath him, shouldered her pack and walked back into the brush. Then, Virue sat on his haunches and crystal blue eyes bore into the forest, but she was not coming back, and he was all alone, for the first time in a long time. Like before Inferni, before his world began. Before the Ende.

And the arrow-slinger walked away from him, her twin rouge pig tails the last thing he saw disappearing behind colouring leaves like the pages of her drawings finally fulfilled.
gotta gotta be down because I want it all

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