i will not doubt you

Kesho Maisha · 12-02-2010, 11:43 PM

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Dated Nov. 14, 2010. Strange poooossstt! I'm exaggerating his injuries a bit, but he needs some good scars. Tongue heals pls WC: 692

Kesho Maisha

He hardly knew what he had done. He was aware, sure, that he had been in a fight. But he didn't know how long it lasted or how many wounds he'd received. The elder coyote only vaguely recalled watching the wolf scatter away, running for his life. In all truth, this image gave him a bit of pleasure. He gave a smug grin as he trod, wincing ever so slightly when he took a bad step. Kesho wasn't supremely hurt, but his wounds were bleeding and painful, though as he was so accustomed to doing, he hid his pain as much as he could. His left front leg was ripped and bleeding; he chose to trod lightly on it, though it seethed and gushed every few moments. You old man, if you collapse under such little pain you truly will be the coward I know. He snarled, outwardly, both out of pain and out of annoyance. He hated his mind being infiltrated without his behest. The old yote continued his trek, secretly wishing that he could simply shift and walk on two legs. It wasn't that easy, though, and although the beast was quelled for now, he feared its future uprising. The connection between him and that shifted form was strong. As he struggled across the terrain-- with his injured leg continually bothering him-- he wondered whether he might be better off risking it. He realized with regret that he was likely too weak to shift, especially since he was still quite uncomfortable with it. If he shifted now, he would be playing a game of chance. There was more of a possibility for him to pass out from exhaustion than complete the shifting process.The moon barely peaked out from the cloudy sky to reassure him, and he sighed heavily and heaved on.

If he could just make it to the forest...I don't know if I can... He thought briefly, but then forced himself into a more positive mood. This wasn't him. He was simply frustrated with himself. In all truth he hadn't wanted to get into a fight so soon after returning. Though it was a battle against his enemy, he felt as though he cheated it, as though he'd won by default. And yet, waves of euphoria crashed over him, combined with the slight shock of having bled so much, and having expunged so much energy to during battle. Kesho's thoughts battled each other consistently. He wanted to be what Gabriel was; a beast, gentle at heart, willing to destroy, but more tolerant than the last generation. But his hatred seethed like a pit of black tar, no matter how much arguing the empathetic side of him did. He could change, sure, but it wouldn't be fast, or easy. His mind was being torn seven ways, and he knew not which to follow. Kesho had so many ideas of who he wanted to be, and who he was that he lost track. Deep down, though, he was a kindhearted fellow, and although truly quite racist against wolves, he had the capability to befriend certain individuals of the species. It was not something he did often, though. This was made even more clear by the wolf-inflicted fresh lacerations across his backside, and the gaping wound on his leg. The trees were getting closer, and as he increased his speed in anticipation, he stared ahead, crimson eyes trying gain focus on the darkness of the forest's corridors. He reached the cover of the trees as quickly as he was able, walking quickly on three legs for the last bit, his energy resources exhausted. Looking around desperately, he found a clear patch of grass, dying and covered in frost. Welcoming the source of comfort, however odd it might be, he quickly thrust his body to the ground, prostate and thoroughly tired. It was unlike him to be so drained just from a simple battle, but it annoyed him still. True, though, he had used a good deal of his energy in the previous days. He was getting older, too, and didn't have quite the same endurance as he did in days passed.

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