09-17-2012, 02:22 PM
Would any recognize him as the son of Jazper, as the once proud Knight. Would any be able to see past the matted and unkempt fur and skinny physique, the blank haunted eyes and compare him to the Lorenzo of old. His return had been noticed by nobody, thank Fenris, least of all the one who had been injured of him, he was grateful Adelle had not found him yet. He hid, like a coward he hid in his room. Barely coming out, only when he was sure that the surrounding was deserted. Some days he had slept outside in the wild because there had been someone skulking about the fort. He had no desire to speak to anybody and see the derision in their eyes, the hatred, the fear. By all rights his father should have exiled him, the murderer.
He had lost roughly half of his weight, leaving him a skeletal skinny shell, his fur was caked in mud and hung limply in tatters. In his right ear where once two earrings had glinted now there were only two missing triangles of emptiness, torn from his ear by his own hands. It had felt good to bleed, to feel pain and torment himself. A sickened lurch came over him and he retched, gagging heavily but bringing nothing up, there was nothing to bring up. His lost almost soulless eyes had sunk deep into his face, casting them in shadow, the emerald and amethyst that had once shined so brightly, dully and glossy. How had he managed to train himself to starvation as he had followed Juliet around like a helpless puppy. He hunted for her but touched hardly anything himself, barely enough to keep a much smaller man alive and healthy never mind the large brute he had once been.
He slunk forwards into the blackness, ears pressed downwards. Night had come quickly, winter was beginning again. He passed the shops and houses, most of the Fort inhabited by strangers to himself. Casa had always been full of strangers. The only sound his whisper quiet footsteps and light breath into the air.
He had lost roughly half of his weight, leaving him a skeletal skinny shell, his fur was caked in mud and hung limply in tatters. In his right ear where once two earrings had glinted now there were only two missing triangles of emptiness, torn from his ear by his own hands. It had felt good to bleed, to feel pain and torment himself. A sickened lurch came over him and he retched, gagging heavily but bringing nothing up, there was nothing to bring up. His lost almost soulless eyes had sunk deep into his face, casting them in shadow, the emerald and amethyst that had once shined so brightly, dully and glossy. How had he managed to train himself to starvation as he had followed Juliet around like a helpless puppy. He hunted for her but touched hardly anything himself, barely enough to keep a much smaller man alive and healthy never mind the large brute he had once been.
He slunk forwards into the blackness, ears pressed downwards. Night had come quickly, winter was beginning again. He passed the shops and houses, most of the Fort inhabited by strangers to himself. Casa had always been full of strangers. The only sound his whisper quiet footsteps and light breath into the air.