[fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 425px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; text-trasform: lowercase][font=times new roman]// lmfao I'm an impatient piece of trash and need to get my thoughts off of school so I'll be posting this. Reading through all of it will give you insight on plot shit but none but the last paragraph is important XD also pls don't try to force yourself into writing with this much muse! I really don't mind if you reply with a paragraph so please don't be intimidated! Also just as a small summary he came back during the night during a storm, the wind basically pushed him into a ravine and he got knocked out while drowning by hitting his head on a rock and now he's like at the bank of a river in the Sunclan territory and is unconscious and bleeding from many places including his head
Lmfao calm returning threads? I think not
He remembered nothing of his time in the void. The last thing he could remember was the intense pain he had gone through before his lungs and heart collapsed under the pressure of his own blood, his father smiling sweetly at him before walking away. After that he could only remember brief flashes and spikes of pain, brief flashes of light and sounds that kept on being pounded into his head. He remembered thinking that he was in hell, where he belonged. He remembered accepting his fate, the fact that he was destined to suffer forever through the endless cycle of seemingly meaningless yet painful feelings. Then be remembered peace, finally being able to leave. It was like a door had been unlocked in his own mind, and the moment that he opened it...
He was stumbling through the woods, rain pounding around him and pelting down on him in buckets. His fur clung to his rippling muscles as he ran through the foliage in an awkward gait, tripping over himself too many times to count. Mud clung to his fur despite the amounts of rain pouring down, an uncomfortable feeling forming around those areas. Everything was blurred and he couldn't focus on what he was doing. He couldn't focus on what had happened either. It was all a jumbled mess of emotions and reactions that were all in a turmoil inside his head. The pulsating and throbbing of his headache didn't help either.
He could focus on only one clear image in his head. The faint and still blurry image of camp. It was the only thing that kept him going, this feeling that he had to get to camp. Little did he know that this was really just Lirim's first test. The determination set inside his heart was being forced onto him by his father in order to test out his new tool. In order to determine if what he had done actually worked. And all the way in Scarclan, his father was smiling his head off, proud of his accomplishment. Because he had created the perfect tool... One he didn't need at the moment, but that would soon change, unbeknownst to Ronan. He was oblivious to everything that was going on.
A pained hiss escaped the canine as he felt his wings snag on a nearby branch, ripping through his soft flesh. Warm blood tricked from the deep wound, and it seemed that not even the rain could fully stop it's flow. Yet he had no time to dwell on the injury. Only a brief glance was spared at the ripped flesh before Ronan continued on shaky paws, eager and itching to get to his destination so he could fall down and just give up. Yet it was so hard to get there. Had the territory always been this large? It seemed like with every step he took he got farther from the camp, farther from the border. But it was easy to get lost if you didn't know the territory, and even easier if the rain was blurring every shape into the same dull gray color. Each tree looked the same as the other.
The thought suddenly came to him. What if he was dreaming? What if he had lost so much that he just couldn't differentiate between real life and his mind anymore. He wouldn't be surprised if his father had never killed him, if all of this was still his dream state. It sure felt like it, but Ronan had a feeling that his hopes were going to be crushed. He knew it wasn't a dream, but he couldn't find any other logical explanation for what had happened, and the fact that he had blacked out for so long. Having it all be a dream, to believe that none of this was real, was a great comfort in a world where nothing seemed to make sense at the moment.
The rain continued to strike against him, the wind tugging violently at his fur and threatening to throw him off balance with every sharp tug. It wanted to pull him down, dragging it's violent claws down his skin and wanting nothing more than his demise. It struggled violently to win. And it did. It succeeded at throwing him off balance, his feathers suddenly unable to work on their own and instead under the influence and control of his tormentor. The storm violently slammed him against a nearby tree, knocking all the air out of his lungs and causing a pained moan to escape him and blood trickled from his side and mouth. His vision was getting blurry. He could only see faded shapes and black spots dancing before his eyes. Yet despite the fact that he shouldn't have, he got up, took a shaky step....
And fell himself falling. A sharp yell escaped him but was soon drowned out by the storm. He fell, hitting himself multiple times against the rocky ravine somewhere near to the Sunclan border. A whole new pain entered his body, but he didn't have enough time to realize that he was bleeding from his head and had multiple cracked ribs before he was suddenly plunged straight into rushing water. It plummeted and ravaged his whole body, dragging him along with it. And only one thought came to his mind. He couldn't swim. The moment that the idea came to his head he went underwater. He started to thrash around, trying to desperately swim even though he couldn't. Yet his struggling seemed too only make it worse, and he felt his strength waning as he continued to try to keep his head above the surface. His lungs must have been half full of water by then, and his breathing came out shallow and pained. He felt like he was drowning. He most likely was. And with the last strength he had, Ronan pushed away his pride to call out the only thing he could. "HELP," before he was suddenly knocked out as his head slammed sharply against a rock, his vision flickering and then fading to black. Yet no one would hear him. They'd only find him later, for the storm downed out any sounds he could and did make, and so he was left in the mercy of the stream.
The storm slowly faded into a drizzle somewhere during six in the morning. The pale light illuminated the hybrid's pearly white fur, casting his whole form in a golden hue. He was stil knocked out, but he was alive. The ravine had connected with a river, which connected with a stream deep in the Sunclan territory. And now he lay on the bank, the water gently lapping at his form.