DON'T BE AFRAID TO CATCH FEELS — EVENT

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    The party was in chaos. Despite arriving incredibly late, Micha had been enjoying the gathering. It had been a little over whelming at first but the lither male had been making some new friends and keeping his nervous self nearer the edges of the crowd. And then all hell had broken loose. The presence in the sky had felt like a hot knife, an angry blotch on the skin of decency. Fire and rocks rained from the sky and Micha had never felt such terror in his entire life. Running from the situation was the only thing he could do. The kind of magic and power the people around him were throwing around was searing his sensors. He had barely enough time to see that Fourthwall had joined the battle against the creature in the sky before he was joining the crowd. Picking up an apprentice who was running too slow, the Sanctum Newblood ran for the mountains, following Witchpaw.

    Cyrus pulled himself to his paws once again, limping as he tried to follow the crowd. Were the meteors still falling? He could hardly see clearly, the world all clouded by smoke and steam. The yell- Hawkclan, was it?- pinned his muddled focus right to the present, to the assault on all his senses.

    "Rifters!" He called out, but his voice hardly carried over the tumult. "We need to leave here!" He was quite sure that if any other Rifters had come, they would have realised that for themselves, and were either following the crowd or going back to the Rift. Blizzardclan was far from home- and Cyrus doubted he had the strength in his leg to travel that far, not on his own. He could only follow the group of others, into the mountains, away from the epicenter of this disaster.

    Water slowed everything down. Such a pity. As he felt Sweet's blood rush into his mouth, he realized that contrary to her name, her blood was just as bitter as everyone else's. He went to twist his head before letting go, hoping to gouge just a bit deeper and rip just a bit more before releasing. He saw her going for his leg, but the damned water didn't allow him to move fast enough. Her teeth sunk into his right foreleg, the one previously marred by a meteor. He roared in pain, forcing it into laughter that made his belly shake.


    The fire from Littlestar came swiftly, but because they were so near water Ululare only felt a little burn before the flame was quenched.


    His chest throbbed. His leg throbbed. He had never been a fighter, but that didn't mean he wasn't getting shit done. He looked at all the terror he had caused, looked at all the destruction. "Good job, Sweet. You did well." He cooed, ripping his leg from her mouth, feeling tendons and ligaments stretch, some tear, as he tore it from her mouth. He couldn't move it any longer. That wasn't good.


    Thankfully, he only needed wings for flying.


    He hated water at this moment, but twisting, his feet found the bottom and using his three good legs, he shoved off the bottom and forced himself back in the sky. Time to go? Hmm... Not without a little last hoorah.


    Ululare sometimes didn't know when to stop.


    He turned in the air, grinning dangerously as he spotted a meteor falling. He swung his thick tail, feeling the delicious impact fracture some of his tail bones as he struck the meteor like a bat to a ball. He sent it sailing, pieces of it breaking and hurtling right towards Pad, Cyrus, Littlestar, and Fourthwall. Sweet didn't get to have all of his attention. But letting his attention lapse from her would be a big mistake.

    OSRIC !

    Osric's rper was a little late to the party, but the Blackheart Rogue was still ready to have some fun. However, he seemed to have arrived at the site of a disaster rather than a barbecue. Or maybe a barbecue gone horribly, horribly wrong?

    Whatever had happened, the area was enveloped in smoke, and panicked partygoers were desperately escaping the scene. What on earth was going on?

    Osric wasn't much of a hero, but nevertheless, he pushed through the crowd, further into the smoke. The chocolate point's eyes watered, blurring his vision, but he could vaguely make out the scene before him: the territory was in flames as balls of fire crashed down from the sky. Osric had never seen a meteor shower, but somehow, he knew that's what was going on.

    And in the center of it all, he could make out the shape of a wolf. Bigger than any wolf he'd ever seen, except for... Fourthwall? Osric blinked to clear his vision, and sure enough, the deputy was right there, fighting off the meteors.

    Well, it was certainly the most extreme barbecue Osric had ever attended.

    For The Sinners To Play As Saints


    Umbrae had missed, well it was quite easy to overshoot after all when he was trying to avoid causing unintentional damage. But you know what? Screw that. Umbrae clumsily landed and sneered at Ululare. He felt his rage boil up in him as he teleported right on top of Ululare, dropping down and aiming to tear at the other dragons wings hopefully shredding them and even if that wouldn't work Umbrae would at least attempt to cling on to Ululare's back.

    #EvilShadows

    You'd Be So Proud Of What We Made



    Tags | Updated 6/16



    FOURTHWALL FALLOUT

    Deputy of The Blackheart Rogues



    "JUST BECAUSE WE CHECK OUR GUNS AT THE DOOR "


    Things were moving fast, and I know this was going to sound weird, but I liked it like that. To have to move on instinct, to have to gauge a situation perfectly from a single glance so that the action that follows is the right one, that was the thrill I sought in life, the reason that someone like me would even put their life at risk in the first place. To feel good. A high without drugs.


    People were streaming by my on their way to the mountains, but I was standing against that current as it parted around me, eyes fixed on the sky that was trying to rain hellfire down on us. My eyes were visibly glowing, and that red glow seemed to bleed tribal down my cheeks and around my eyes as I called upon the demon in me and forced it to give up its powers so that I could use them instead. Just as our deal dictated. My soul for his powers.


    With a crack! a jagged shaft of black and red electricity would shoot toward one of the oncoming meteors and destroy it with a thunderous sound. And another. And another. The electricity was like a blackish red aura pulsing and crackling around me, and I could feel it everywhere even though it didn't hurt me.


    Over to my left by the lake Ululare and the others were going at it, and while I'd been tempted to join them I knew that a fight could hit a point where there were too many involved for anyone to really win, and aside from that nobody really seemed to be covering the clanners trying to escape, so I'd might as well do something for them. But I was still watching the shit starter who'd done all this, and when he broke free of the others and rose into the sky smash a series of boulder sized meteors at me and a bunch of the others, I was already on the defense and ready. A powerful blast of reddish black electricity would surge forward and branch off to collide with a number of the chunks head my way, the bolt in the lead breaking off toward Ululare, hoping to catch the dragon right in the muzzle to give his insides a nice little fry.


    It was always a nice feeling to make someones heart skip a beat, after all.


    "DOESN'T MEAN OUR BRAINS WILL CHANGE FROM HAND GRENADES"


    Basics
    Canine/Feline Hybrid - Hellhound - 5'9 - Homoromantic/Bisexual

    Interactions
    Aloof - Blunt - Sarcastic - Social
    Impulsive - Corrupt - Possessive - Unpredictable
    Aggressive - Dominating - Highly Intelligent - Fast Thinker
    Violent - Prone to Apathy - Capricious - Playful

    **PLEASE NOTE;; Fourthwall is known to break the 4th wall, as his name suggests. He is a person who -instead of gods or reincarnation- thinks that he is just a character made up in a story, and so nothing he says or does has any real consequence. This allows him to suppress emotions like guilt or hesitation in order to enrich his life, as he believes that nobody is actually real, and so none of the bad things he does to others in order to enjoy himself are real either. He will often refer to his 'Writer' during 1st person posts and complain about the way they write him or his story, and is convinced that the entire world and FF's reality is just some big story. **



    GOD HAS GIVEN YOU ONE FACE,
    AND YOU MAKE YOURSELF ANOTHER    ･ﾟ✧

    Only vaguely aware of the others - only enough attention would be spared in order to assure that she would not get caught in the crossfire - Sweetophelia kept her eyes locked on Uluare. As he turned his attack on Littlestar, Pad, and the others, Sweetophelia made her move. She couldn't shoot into the sky the same way a dragon could but she could follow him. Deciding to strike at where he was already weak and raw, the lioness teleported once more, reappearing high above the lake, in the sky under his bulky form. Her paws stretched outward, the Targaryen intended to clasp her teeth around his limp leg; her limbs would cling to the remaining length of his leg for added pressure. She wanted to tear him apart, piece by piece.


    TAGS

    credit goes to lingerie

    He laughed when the lightning hit his face, feeling the electricity ripple across his scales. Ow. Hahh that hurt. Fuck. He shook himself to rid his brain from the frazzles that went through him, only to feel a pressure drop on his back. He felt whoever was there dig into his wings. They were hard to rip through, but it definitely didn't feel good.


    He watched the blood from his leg drip like rain, realizing he probably should skidaddle before losing much more. Through these thoughts, Sweetophelia appeared once more, and he saw her glistening teeth a second before they clamped into his leg.


    His lip twitched, his face adopting a look much akin to one experiencing a minor inconvenience. He really hated losing limbs. At least it wasn't an eye this time.


    Sighing, knowing what he must do, knowing that he overstayed, he gave one swift look across the destruction, grinning faintly as he saw the meteors burning. Then he rolled, freeing himself from the person atop him and freeing himself from his leg - and thus Sweetophelia. It ripped rather easily, given the former destruction, but he still gasped as it tore free. The blood that poured from the wound was magnificent, hopefully it drenched Sweet in scarlet. With his roll, he then nosedived towards the ground, landing heavily on all three remaining limbs. He then found a freshly fallen, still burning meteor and shoved his stump atop it to cauterize the bloodflow. The roar that ripped through his body was magnificent, and the pain made his vision go black, but he ended it with strangled laughter. Pain was nothing new to the white dragon, and was something he could handle.


    Lifting his fresh stump from the meteor, he blew off some dust and grime before flapping his wings hard. He would need some herbs and antiseptic for the amputation he just went through.


    Regardless, his time here was done, "See you later fuckers, and always remember that the End Game won't be finished until the world ends. Ta-ta for now!" He chuckled as he soared higher, flapping until he was far from the field of his destruction.

    Cyrus had been focusing on moving onward, not on keeping his eyes out for more meteors. He'd thought with Ululare under attack, the main assault was over, and after hearing those screams, he thought the invader was losing the fight. He was focused on pushing himself forward, step by painful step, and he didn't at all expect a fragment of meteor to come flying straight towards him. It was only a piece- Fourthwall's electricity had broken the large rock into smaller chunks- but it still moved fast, crackling with heat both from the friction of its fall and the electricity that had shattered it apart from its core. For a larger creature, a dragon or lion, this might not have been a problem, only a minor inconvenience, a small wound that could be easily patched up back at camp. For Cyrus, a nyari, there was no chance. The jagged edge of the projectile hit him right in the side. He could have hardly seen it through the smoke. There was no real warning- one moment he was standing up, the next he was lying on the ground a distance away from where he'd been standing, dazed by pain and confusion and surrounded by the growing scent of his own blood.

    I'M A SHUT UP SIT DOWN — Shirin
    Shirin had only just arrived to find the place in absolute chaos. She looked around, spotting Umbrae amongst the mess. "Umbrae! What are you doing?!" she yelled, stepping forwards slightly, her soft white pelt rippling. Her eyes burned their course, and seemed to have turned a darker shade.

    He was trying to get away from the chaos- mainly the lake that Ululare and Sweetophelia were battling in- but he had to help the stragglers get out before he did. Not that his safety was any concern for him. A panicking mother had come to the ghost, begging him to help locate her separated daughter. So, Pad hobbled around, eyes glowing through the thick smoke, collasped lungs burning as he inhaled the toxic air. A rustle of movement caught his eye from a far. A young kit was tangled in a bramble, struggling to free themselves as a flaming tree trunk threatened to crush them. That was the daughter. Damn it.


    With a huff, Pad gritted his teeth, quickening his limping pace. There was a lot of ground to cover, and a little bit of chance to reach the kitten. He dared to force his fractured leg onto the earth, pushing off with increasing speed. He still wasn't fast enough. As a last resort, he transformed into a creature known for its swiftness and agility- a hare. Pad's body shifted mid-sprint, becoming merely a glimpse of a shadow before he thudded against the ground, leaner legs and lighter frame travelling quickly across the scorched ground, pain shooting through his broken leg.


    As soon as he began to reach a short distance from the kit, he sprung, becoming a cat once more as he tackled her, the two of them narrowing dodging the falling tree. But Pad wasnt out of the woods quite yet. The kit had a few lacerations from the bramble's thorny snare, not to mention scrapes from the rough rescue. She gave a frighted sniffle as the demon escorted her back to the dying flow of evacuating clanners. "Okay, kid, stay close, your mom should be a bit further up in the crowd." the paladin wheezed, the smoke surrounding them worsening his labored breathing. It was then a sickening crack of bone and rock came from the lake, and he only had time to turn around to see Ululare batting a meteor towards him. Fortunately, it was split by an unknown source of electricity, but unfortunately, the largest chunk was still directed right at him. With the narrow window of time closing, Pad braced himself, and inches from the kit and himself, the meteor was stopped by tendrils of shadow, holding it just above the pair. Using all his might and concentration keep the damned space rock from crushing both of them, he snatched the kit up by the scruff, before tossing her away from danger. It was then his strength gave out, and the meteor fell from the shadowy grasp, and found its target.


    Once the dust settled, smoke and embers still running rampant, one could see that the meter completely flattened him, still laying atop his ghostly body as if victorious. The only thing seen of Pad was his paw outstretched from the meteor, opacity of his apparition growing fainter and fainter by the undead heartbeat. He wasn't alive, but he wasn't dead either. What was he? Smashed by a meteor? Finally put to rest? Or simply in a comatose state? The question went unanswered as his amber vision, once so fiercely trained on defending his clan, faded to black.

    The post was edited 1 time, last by old becky ().

    For The Sinners To Play As Saints


    The dragoness huffed as his target flew off. Umbrae set down on the ground and took a deep breath, letting his nerves calm down. His ear twitched as he looked over and saw shirin. Umbrae shifted back into his much smaller fox form and flapped his wings softly.


    "Emotions got the best of me. That guy was from the End Game, they hurt one of my friends real bad. She had to get a leg amputated." The deputy chief said with a small shrug.

    #EvilShadows

    You'd Be So Proud Of What We Made



    Tags | Updated 6/16


    The battle ensued, and still there were bystanders - possible collateral damage. As Sweetophelia had ordered, Pierce was hurrying around the area, urging partygoers toward the mountains. His heart hammered in his chest, so fast and so powerful that he was sure it would burst, but he contined, taking care to get each person surrounding him out. It was a bit overwhelming, really, but he kept his head for the most part. The smell of smoke and blood filled his nostrils, and he had to jump out of the way more than once to keep from being crushed by a meteor. God, this was such a mess. What if not everyone made it out on time? It would be all his fault - after all, Sweetophelia had trusted him and Witchpaw to get the others to safety. The ground shook, dotted with meteors, and Pierce could still hear the sounds of combat behind him, but he didn't dare look. Suddenly, it stopped, and he managed to make out Ululare's words as the now three-limbed dragon flew off.


    Where was Sweet? She was the first person his mind went to, as she had been the one engaging the most with Ululare. Was she alright? And what about the rest of his clanmates? The vice-leader blinked slowly as he came to a halt, sides heaving. He glanced around, scanning the carnage. Hopefully, most of the partygoers had evacuated by now, and there had been no casualties. "I-is everyone alright?" he called out finally, breathless. Had any medics been at the party? Considering the damage done to the land, he wouldn't be surprised if at least a few people had been wounded.


    //mobile

    tags

    Cyrus was, evidently, very much not alright. The sharp chunk of stone had dug into his torso from the left side, breaking ribs and piercing Theseus knew what else. It hurt terribly- or at least it had at first. The pain felt more distant now, for some reason. Darkness was starting to grow in the corners of his vision. He tried to blink it away, trying to keep himself awake even though he couldn't move very much. Someone was calling out in the distance, asking if people were alright... maybe they could help him? The severity of his injuries hadn't sunk in yet, he couldn't even see them from his current position.

    He raised his head and his vision nearly blacked out for a moment before clearing.

    "Help," he gasped out, and with the words felt something wet on his lips. His senses were already flooded with blood-scent, enough that the fact that he was bleeding from his mouth didn't compute for him for the moment. He had to stay awake. He had to help the other Rifters... he had to make sure no one was hurt or killed...


    /probably going to kill this body off permanently and have him forced into one of his other forms.


    FOURTHWALL FALLOUT

    Deputy of The Blackheart Rogues



    "JUST BECAUSE WE CHECK OUR GUNS AT THE DOOR "


    Damn, that was some party. It might have even been fun if the dragon had stuck around a little longer- and if it hadn't ruined my plans for a fun night with that runt I'd rescued from The Cartel. For some reason the latter bugged me more than the former, which in turn bugged me even more.


    But the dragon was retreating and the focus- mine and everyone elses- was slowly starting to shift to those around us. Which is how I noticed the Rifter bleedingout a few yards away. "Oh, shit dude." I'd say padding over. It looked bad, but I was used to gruesome shit and aside from that I had no personal ties to this guy. "Is there a medic around?!" I called, hoping someone nearby would be able to take this guy off my hands. I had zero experience with healing.
    "DOESN'T MEAN OUR BRAINS WILL CHANGE FROM HAND GRENADES"


    Basics
    Canine/Feline Hybrid - Hellhound - 5'9 - Homoromantic/Bisexual

    Interactions
    Aloof - Blunt - Sarcastic - Social
    Impulsive - Corrupt - Possessive - Unpredictable
    Aggressive - Dominating - Highly Intelligent - Fast Thinker
    Violent - Prone to Apathy - Capricious - Playful

    **PLEASE NOTE;; Fourthwall is known to break the 4th wall, as his name suggests. He is a person who -instead of gods or reincarnation- thinks that he is just a character made up in a story, and so nothing he says or does has any real consequence. This allows him to suppress emotions like guilt or hesitation in order to enrich his life, as he believes that nobody is actually real, and so none of the bad things he does to others in order to enjoy himself are real either. He will often refer to his 'Writer' during 1st person posts and complain about the way they write him or his story, and is convinced that the entire world and FF's reality is just some big story. **



    S K A ' A R Q

    ***

    //temporarily using main


    ;))

    ***

    Ska'arq had taken care to avoid the thick of battle as he carried the injure away from the drama. Two kits were grasped in his hands, wings doing all the work as he rushed them away from the flames and to their worried mother. Too worried about the other stragglers to get flustered by her intense gratitude, he almost shoved the mother towards the group as he urgently directed her up the mountain. His narrowed cyan glare flickered up to the main fight. Even from where he was suspended in the air, he could tell Sweetophelia was injured. Ululare was not doing much better. It was then the reptilian beast smashed a rock with ease- he heard the crack of stone as well as bone, and it earned a shudder. As the shards of flaming rock flew every which direction, panic filled him as he sped to the area. He was certain there were still others who hadn't escaped yet. He knew for a fact that several of his clanmates had stayed behind to help the allies. It was then a crack of lightning split the air, shattering multiple chunks of the meteor fragments. However, it didn't stop their descent as they rained their fiery hell upon the landscape. With desperate searching optics, he tried to seek out any possible stragglers. A flicker of shadow in the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he turned just in time to see Pad become smaller as he changed into a hare, rescuing a kit just moments before a flaming tree came crashing down. But there was-


    No.


    A chunk of the rock - the biggest at that - was hurtling straight towards him. There was no way he could stop it. With a powerful flap of his wings, his jaw clenched as he rushed in to save them. For the briefest of moments, the meteor stopped midair. Hope flickering in his vial, he came ever closer. But then it all came crashing down. Quite literally.


    Time seemed to stop as the meteor smashed into the ground- right on top of Pad. Dust and rock fragments flew into the air. Ska'arq's heart seemed to stop. Almost falling from the sky, he just about crashed into the ground, legs already working as he scrambled over. His jaws parted as an ungodly shriek tore its way out.


    "PAD!"


    The dragon skidded to a halt, charred grass tearing up beneath his claws. His feet were covered in soot. He was in shock- he had no idea what to do as he stumbled over incoherent vowels, staring at the rapidly fading paw that jutted out from beneath the meteor. Heart pounding, he pulled in raspy breaths as his wings pressed into the ground, acting as leverage as he reached forward with trembling hands. With a grunt, he rolled it off. There he was. Pad seemed to be flickering in and out of existence. Desperately snatching the flattened creature off of the ground, he continuously nudged the limp figure as he shakily stroked the fur.


    Pad had been his first friend.


    Letting out whimpers, Ska'arq looked around. Was there no one to help? Still panicking and not-quite-believing the situation, tears started to roll down his cheeks as he whined. "Pad?" he whimpered. "P-Pad, this isn't funny." His vials were fluctuating again, their host struggling to know how to react. "Pad, please," he begged, swallowing heavily. His throat was tight. "Y-you're already dead. Please tell me this is a joke. I-I-" Another shaky breath. "I won't get mad- I promise!" His tear-filled gaze took another look around. "Please wake up. Y-you can't- I thought..." With the limp creature still in his arms, a sob ripped its way into the air as his head lowered.

    ***

    ATTACK IN BOLD #6e65b5 - TAGS - EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD

    It was hard to describe being trapped between the mortal and ethereal worlds. It was a familiar limbo, one that he hated, one that drove him to try and remain in the living world, one that he couldn't escape. But for now, Pad welcomed the numbness it brought to his restless soul. All of his energy was being focused on maintaining his heavily damaged apparation; he was only vaguely aware of being scoped into the dragon's sooty arms. Everything was muted, Ska'arq's begging was only barely made out by his consciousness. He didn't want to leave the peacefulness of his prison just yet. His form was crumpled, like grass after being trampled on. It was as if he was connected and separated at the same time, seeing everything and nothing all and once. Something mortal minds couldn't possibly hope to understand, something he didn't understand.


    But the start of sobbing broke through the veil. Ska'arq was crying over his motionless body. Crying for him. Something long-forgotten clicked in the ghost's brain. With every fiber and every atom in his existence, he forced himself back into reality. Reality was still quite dim, and everything burned like Satan himself had tossed him into the brimstone pits of Hell. His tendons and muscles were frozen in place, still hanging limply as a result of his early return. But, how could one tell if a ghost was still functional without a pulse? Pad gave the tiniest flick of his bobbed tail, an action that made his whole apparition scream in protest, but it was a sign. A sign that he was still responsive. Just...out of order for the time being. Until he could recover enough energy to return back to the state he had originally died in. Who knew how long that would take. He silently willed Ska'arq to put him back down, the dragon's worried grasp was growing quite painful to his crushed form. But the embrace was comforting to say the least. If he could move, he would probably laugh at how dramatic this all was. Yet instead, Pad rested, allowing his conscience to slip away into a hibernation-like state. Hopefully, everything had been settled by now, and the entire territory hadn't been destroyed, but he doubted it. Oh well.

    I'M A SHUT UP SIT DOWN — Shirin
    Everything seemed to happen in a haze, and Shirin soon realised that there was someone yelling because someone was dying. Oh dear gods, what had she stumbled into? Her body froze, and she found herself wondering if Umbrae had done this.

    Cyrus heard Fourthwall speak up nearby, and blinked a few times, trying to shift his head to see who it was speaking to him. He didn't recognise the blurry face, but from the tone of his voice Cyrus guessed that his injuries were severe. Turning his head to look at himself hurt too much, so he let himself rest back down again, feeling sticky blood drying on his fur.

    "A medic would be good," he croaked weakly, not yet aware that there was little a medic would be able to do to hep him. There had been so many groups invited to this event, surely there would be a medic around here somewhere... Things would be alright- he just had to wait. The nyari closed his eyes for a moment.

    S K A ' A R Q

    ***

    //temporarily using main


    success: i made my mom cry with the previous post

    ***

    He was gone. Pad was gone.


    No, he hadn't known the feline very long. But it felt like it. The night by the lake, when Pad had needed it. Ska'arq had found him, and had spent the entire night sharing stories and comforting each other. It was the first time he had truly met the boy. They were both outcasts. Even if they couldn't share their problems on a deeper level, they understood each other. The night in the forest, when Ska'arq had needed it. Pad had been there, and had done his best to comfort the beast until he had calmed down. They were the outcasts. They had problems no one else would ever understand. They only had each other, when it mattered most.


    And yet he was gone.


    Ska'arq hugged Pad's body to his chest, his own shaking with each sob. The ghost's body had never held traces of warmth in it. His fur was freezing to the touch. This fact only seemed to make the beast cry harder. No, he had never cried like this before. Not even for the murder of his siblings, nor the lives of the children he had emotionally crippled. No- those tears were from guilt and regret. This was true sorrow. The loss of a dear friend.


    Ska'arq's head lowered further until his nose pressed into Pad's side. He continued to sit on his haunches, clutching the smaller being in his arms as he wept.


    Was this what happened when you made friends? Were friends made to be savagely torn away, leaving you behind in the dust, with nothing to do but shed tears? Was that the sole purpose of friendship?


    He hated it.


    He despised it.


    He-


    Something chilled his cheek as it brushed against it. Ska'arq's eyes snapped open, vision blurred with tears. He was certain he saw Pad's tail move. "Pad?" he whimpered. His voice was pitifully quiet as his head retreated to look at the limp feline. For several minutes he was quiet, save for the involuntary hitching of breath. He blinked tears from his eyes. Nothing happened. Ska'arq's face scrunched up again, sorrow threatening to take over, but he forced it back. No.


    He wouldn't give up on Pad- not yet. He had moved. He was sure of it. Standing up on his hindlegs, he wobbled for a moment, but refused to let Pad go as he regained balance. Spreading his wings, he carefully ensured he wouldn't drop his precious cargo as he took to the air. For the time being, thoughts of everything else had dissipated. He needed to get help. As the dragon climbed into the sky, his hardened stare locked on the islands above.

    ***

    ATTACK IN BOLD #6e65b5 - TAGS - EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD