The root of my problems |open, meditation| Have no root at all

This is an archived version of FeralFront. While you can surf through all the content that was ever created on FeralFront, no new content can be created.
If you'd like some free FeralFront memorabilia to look back on fondly, see this thread from Dynamo (if this message is still here, we still have memorabilia): https://feralfront.com/thread/2669184-free-feralfront-memorabilia/.



    Atticus was home now but it felt far from such a thing. If home was where the heart was, then Henry was his home. Not Windclan. But he wasn't sure if he had Henry's heart anymore and he'd understand why. The thought was heart shattering, the idea of losing his husband's loyalty felt like torture but yet it felt reasonable.
    The moose had to get his mind off of it. Off of everything.


    And so that was why the huge former deputy was in the bhuddist shrine at the highest altitude of the territory. After a quick dose of Opium, the male's nerves were calm enough to remain stable and in the center of the bhuddist structure the gigantic sat himself down - much like a dog would, closing his eyes and listening to the gentle breeze shaking the branches within trees as songbirds chirped out their gentle melody.
    Atticus's breaths were slow and his muscles loose, his body and mind finally both at peace for once.

    [center](c)trexgirl


    I have my father's eyes | 4/28

    [center][fancypost=bgcolor=;border:0;width:450px;text-align:justify;font-size:8pt;color:#000000;][font=georgia]★ MELCHOIR HACKSAW - accept me for who i am
    Melchoir Hacksaw knew that this was a time and an area overall of peace which was explanation enough for his tentative steps and careful breathing. He was in no way properly religious however, he respected them and was also rather curious by the entire concept of religion and gods and divine entities. The dalmador glanced down at the ground for a few moments, his emerald gaze fixed hard on his paws as he went about making sure that he did not cause too much noise, ghosting over ground. His ears twitched slightly, taking in the few atmospheric sounds that engulfed the air through the expected silence. Atticus' slow breathing. The creak of branches dancing and swaying rhythmically under the hypnotic trance of the breeze. Leaves caressing softly, the familiar crinkle amplified by the spiritual setting. Birdsong being carried along by the air, swirling around him. It was beautiful.


    Initially, Melchoir had definitely been contemplating speaking up. He wanted to pounce upon his father and hug him and cry tears in a flooded mixture of despair and ecstasy and scream at him for leaving and whisper that he loved his parent. However, he could sense just from the calm atmosphere that doing so would be extremely inappropriate and he therefore found himself lulled into a comfortable silence. At one time he would have bounded over with reckless disregard for what spiritual actions were taking place. Melchoir would have chimed up loudly, obnoxiously, in an act of total abandon. It seemed however, as if the previously reckless youth had matured in the time that he had been forced to venture around by himself with one of his beloved fathers missing and the other not stable enough to care properly for his own flesh and blood. It was really a thing that had put the entire situation into perspective for the young dalmador but it had also been quite the wake up call as he now found himself able to accept that bad things tended to happen to the good beings of the world.


    It was just nature and something worthwhile was bound to happen soon to them. Although he had matured, to some degree, he still as a child in body and soul. He still had the usual childish naivety that most, if not all youths had but it was just that he had been able to manipulate it to be more of a matured individual. However, at times his childishness was still very clear, shown in ways such as through his over optimistic sense of hope and justice. Melchoir was not childish enough to commit such an act however, too afraid that if he got to complacent with things, it would all come crashing down around him and he would be left alone again. It was scary. But, the youth was positive. Optimistic. Full of hope. With that cemented within his strong mind, the young canine sat himself down besides the former deputy, shoulders tense as he settled down, emerald eyes focused on his own paws as he tried to loose himself in the deafening quiet as if in an attempt to avoid any discomfort.



    A moose's senses was nothing to be taken lightly, even if Atticus was rather aged and even though mentally he wasn't all there, he could feel the presence of another being within this scene. The sound of footsteps were picked up by his sensitive ears, the smell filled his nostrils enough to identify who was present.
    Before identifying, the moose grew tense and the fur upon his neck raised defensively.
    Was it Vader coming here to demean him? To decriminalization and pick into another battle?


    No.
    This smell was familiar and warm... His son. Melchoir.
    The moose turned his cranium to meet the eyes of the little puppy and immediately his core filled with guilt and pain. He never wanted to leave his children, but he did not want to hrr him as he hurt Vader. Shifting in his seat the moose laid down to make himself smaller and he then outstretched a long limb to wrap around Melchoir and pill him into a gentle embrace, his voice only coming out as a minuscule murmur filled with pain.
    "I"m so sorry."

    [center](c)trexgirl


    I have my father's eyes | 4/28

    I have my father's eyes | 4/28

    [center]


    Oliver Queen-Stark
    "The Arrow"


    Being a deputy for a clan like Windclan was harder than he'd thought. Did that mean he wasn't up for it? Not at all, but he did feel like he understood Atticus a little better.


    He'd taken to working out in silence, since his own home wasn't big enough for some of his exercises. When he saw that he wasn't alone today, however, he nearly turned around and went back. What made him pause was that it was Atticus, and that the moose seemed to be... meditating. When Melchoir showed up, again, he thought about leaving the two of them together, but his paws refused to obey him. Instead, he found himself padding towards the pair.


    He stopped not too far away and cleared his throat. "Hey. I'm glad you're looking much better," he said sheepishly. At least, he didn't seem as frantic as he was.


    - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
    When you feel my heat
    Look into my eyes
    It’s where my demons hide
    It’s where my demons hide
    {Demons by Imagine Dragons}

    tags

    tags

    [center][fancypost=bgcolor=;border:0;width:450px;text-align:justify;font-size:8pt;color:#000000;][font=georgia]★ MELCHOIR HACKSAW - i can fly as long as i’m with you
    He had noticed the tension that had been caused by his unannounced presence, ears tilting back against his head slightly. He had not meant to startle or cause discomfort but decided rather rapidly to not take the action as a personal one seeing that too much had happened for him to not expect such reactions. Life was hard. It was a lesson that he had learned from a young age. Melchoir glanced to the side, peering at his father as the moose adjusted his positioning to lay down besides him. It was a small yet kind gesture that would definitely not go unnoticed by the much smaller child. After all, his father was massive in comparison to himself.


    "It's alright, dad." the youth murmured to the larger being as he quietly acknowledged the pain permeating the former deputy's voice, very briefly closing his eyes to stop the dizzying sense of melancholy that had began to pool inside of him as if escaping from a crack within a secure dam. However, deep down he was stricken with panic and fear wherever he went. If he had it his way, he would constantly have his parents within his sight to ensure that they did not leave him ever again. It was not like he really had any siblings to keep him entertained anymore and even if they were around, his intense paranoia at the thought that he would be left lonely once more would most likely prohibit him from actively getting involved in games and playing. There were good moments in which the child only wanted to play with his siblings and his parents and the whole of Windclan. That was the time when he did not feel so distressed. However, it was more often that he would feel the internal effects of the bad moments where he wanted to both keep his distance to calm any anxiety yet he also felt the urge to stay as close as possible to whoever was nearest to him. He wanted to cling onto someone and have them hug him back, never to let him go again. That was what he felt at least when the moose pulled the youth towards him. Instantly, Melchoir found himself melting into the embrace being offered to him by the larger male, pressing his muzzle into the side of their neck slightly as he raised his own leg in an attempt to return the hug, ears twitching ever so slightly as he responded to the words that had been muttered. He could feel his eyes growing watery as he did so, ears angled flat against his tears as he bit back any urges to allow tears to spill from his eyes. He was successful in doing so, this time.


    As if in perfect time to provide him with a distraction, Oliver approached them and spoke up himself. He hummed, the sound vibrating from the back of his throat, in gentle agreement to Oliver's words. He was right and Mel would not have been able to word it any better himself. He too was immensely glad that Atticus was looking much better and he hoped that the apparent recovery was also reflected internally. He sat himself up slightly, turning his head to peer with wide emerald eyes at the now deputy who had stepped up to the place that his father had previously occupied. There was no resentment towards him despite that information being firmly planted within his mind though. In a way, Melchoir was happy for him and proud that the older being had come so far. It also meant that perhaps his father would now not be completely plagued with the pressure of responsibilities and power. Hopefully, he would be able to spend more time relaxing in order to recover. He nodded to the griffin in both greeting and additional agreement, tilting his head up to peer at his parent once more with bright eyes.