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BEOWOLF ![color=white] ➤ information | battle tags | [abbr=Reincarnation of Angelbeats, ex-Shadowclan Leader ➤ ages 1month per 100posts]other[/abbr] | #beowolfposts | #openthreadbeowolf | #oneshotbeowolf1000
[justify]ooc. TL;DR, Beau wandered a bit too close to the old camp and a premature bomb fell. He managed to run down most of the mountain/hill, tumbling and slammed into a rock. He managed to get behind it, but not before the bomb hit getting hit with a few pieces of shrapnel. His right cheek, shoulder + foreleg, and a bit of his side will be scarred now, and Beau will have lost the hearing in his right ear c: He can be found at the very base of the mountain, unconscious!
WORDS; 1361
Humans were monstrous creatures, this much had been made true when they had started to invade their home, the one place that Beowolf could call that. Of course, Alaska was home now, too- he was grateful that the femme had moved here… but at times he wondered if she had made the right decision, too. No matter what the inky black Guardian would stand by her decisions however, simply eager to be near her. Regardless he felt empty at times with the daunting threat of war with what some deemed a superior species- the humans after all, had weapons. Ones he had never even dreamed of ever seeing and their shot guns and bullets were threatening enough as it were. This looming sense of war, of hatred and of discomfort, it had already started to change others as it were, too. Eternalpaw no longer seemed like a shy, stuttering mess but a creature filled with a blind hate. Rhymescheme seemed snappier ( albeit, the male didn’t know it was because of pregnancy, not the battle ) and even he himself had died down a bit from his normal boisterous attitude.
It was all food for thought really, something he couldn’t quite help but think about. The thought of an ever looming battle- one that may or may not even happen –was enough to keep him up at night. Burning copper eyes looking at the wall as he thought, felt anxious, and eventually fell asleep. His eyes to be swollen and puffed in the morning, red from a lack of sleep. He had already gone over how he felt his childhood had been ripped away from him again from cold claws, but at the same time, he felt a hope. He felt it with the way that the suns warm rays flitted down from between tree branches, creating dappled patterns on the cold earth. He found hope in the way that the birds still sung their songs of peace despite the distant rumbling thunder of dropping bombs in the distance. He found it in the way that the grass seemed greener and how their makeshift camp around the lake still seemed so… homey, so nice.
He found hope in the ways he had gone for walks by himself at times, no matter how bright or dark a day to contemplate it all for himself. He was doing so now, his paws taking him far over the grass lands, and close to the base of the mountains, but Beowolf was always careful to never tread to far up it’s base, to avoid the dangers above. He was nowhere near close enough at the moment, and as such, he let himself wander both body and mind. Other than the hope and the darkness the male let his mind wander to his Clan, to how well everyone was faring and how he could help them even further. Even back in the past, in Shadowclan when he had once been a Leader he had always thought for his clan, and it was a comforting thought to know that he still cared deeply despite the different blood than ran through his veins. It was comforting to know that, even without ghosts of the past haunting him, even without a deadbeat mother and a missing father, that Windclan still accepted him as him, and loved him. He was grateful for the love of his life in these trying times, and thought back to how their relationship could only grow from this point on, and his friends- supportive and willing to be there for him. With all of these thoughts running through his mind at bullet fast paces, the inky black wolf hardly even noticed when the terrain beneath his paws started to shift from the soft grass to the rocky terrain of the mountains. Hardly noticed as his path was taken further and further up as he left the plains and the forest behind and started on a small upward slope.
He hardly even noticed the whistle, growing louder and louder.
It was the trembling of the earth that got Beowolf to stop in his tracks, eyes wide, heart thudding against his chest. The earth wasn’t supposed to tremble so much, the loud bangs and crashes were supposed to feel more distant. In truth, the old camp was still very, very far away from his location, no humans around on foot to interrupt him. But planes buzzed by overhead, and one had accidentally dropped a bomb early.
His head shot skyward, eyes wide and almost bulging as he noticed the dropping bomb, it’s whistle only growing louder and louder. ”Oh shit.” He said aloud, feeling frozen to the spot before he forced himself to start running, to run down the hill and not look back. Looking back meant he was dead, and he only had that whistle as his countdown.
5
He booked it as fast as he could, nearly tripping and tumbling down the slope as he picked up speed, but the sound of the whistle was only growing louder, louder, louder still as he ran, feeling his throat tighten as the wind burned.
4
Gulping in and swallowing spit he tumbled, starting to slide down the hill. Rocks dug into his skin, thin cuts forming as he got bumped into, his shoulder uncomfortably hitting a rock as he slammed into it. Feeling battered, he saw the grass below, it was so close, but so far.
3
The whistle seemed so faint and so loud at the same time now, and Beowolf knew it was moments away from landing. He went against his word, turning to face the blast and caught it just as the tip struck the ground. He closed his eyes the minute he started seeing the bright flash of light, turning his body as he quickly ducked behind the rock he had so haphazardly slammed into moments before. He felt heat, not enough to burn, but make him uncomfortable and squirm. But he hadn’t ducked behind quickly enough, hadn’t covered his ears quickly enough.
2
Having successfully saved his left side, Beowolf howled out in pain as he felt a piece of shrapnel zip by and cut across his right cheek. But he had no time to think about the pain, about the moisture he felt as blood began to dribble down his cheek. As his right ear felt an immense pressure while his left was covered with one paw. The heat started to fade, he felt his heart rate quicken still, his breathing become shallow.
1
When it was over he opened his eyes, not bothering to move, only peaking his head up and over the rock as soon as he had the chance. His head was aching, his joints and bones sore, his body roughed up from the tumble. His paw pads were bleeding, his eyes vivid, wild, his heart beat and breathing irregular. There was a high pitched buzz going on around his ears, and although he could hear those faint sounds around him, everything seemed so dull, so distant.
0
Disorientated he turned in the direction of the lakeside camp, stumbling forward a few steps before he slid down the rest of the hillside, landing in the soft cool grass. He still couldn’t hear things, not all that well- his left one taking time to get back to normal. But unbeknownst to Beowolf at the time, his right would forever be deafened from the blast now, his right cheek scarred similarly. A few more deeper cuts from shrapnel lining his shoulder, a few on his side, his fur singed ever so slightly from the heat. He lay there at the base of the hill, the bomb that never should have been let off hardly visible from the top now. He had tumbled a long way, he could feel it. ”Someone… Alaska…” He mumbled, hardly even audible, his voice non-existent to himself as he closed his eyes at the base, blacking out, waiting to be found amongst the rubble, amongst pieces of rock that had tumbled down with him. Alive, but in shock, and bleeding more than he would have liked.
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