[size=16pt]( STRAIGHT FROM THE GRAVE )[/size]
[fancypost borderwidth=0pt; width: 400px;][justify][size=8]"Fear and futile attempts to help the feeble, blood and bruises, tears and terror. He walks closer, and the fear gets bigger, louder. It screams at me and I have to help." Cole was violently trembling at this point, red eyes locked on something the others couldn't see, a memory playing on repeat behind closed curtains. Guilty crouched on the ground, Bill going for his brother and Cole couldn't watch. Flames devouring fur and singeing flesh, leaving him screaming in pain, tears welling up and falling down his face.
Night terrors plaguing at night, burning him alive as he cried for Sola, for Cady, Cain, Finn even. Finally learning that Bill was dead, the fear subsided, the pain reduced. The living ghost of what happened no longer haunting. But he was alive? Bill was here, he was physically here, he was where they were supposed to be safe. He wasn't supposed to be here. He wasn't supposed to be alive and Cole was going to vomit. Slowly, the white wolf began sinking to the ground, his legs giving out and the flames curling around his scarred legs but going no farther and not leaving the vicinity of his body.
He could hear them, they were trying to help. But too much, too much and everything was too close. The scent of the others, the smell of the flames curling around him, the scent of his fear and panic. "He cries, pulverized, pained, petrified." His breathing turned torn, scooting back slightly and flattening his ears against his head. "He doesn't help. He backs off, backs away, submits and rolls belly up. He won't help, he won't soothe the frightened, the fearful. He watches, he backs away as he takes Guilty away." The male was mumbling at this point, more to himself than anyone else. Struggling to regain control, struggling to cling to reality and remain seated in the drive's seat.
"It's okay, it's okay.. He can't hurt you anymore." Cole seemed to shrink into himself, watching behind a tightly balled-up tail, the flames slowly dying down, slowly trailing into a small flicker. The male's ears flattened harder against his head, a faint, shuddered sigh escaping from his jaws. It was a few moments of silence before Cole responded or looked away from the wall where his eyes had been distantly stuck. Quietly, he looked up at them, brows furrowing together and a billowed breath falling from his lips. "Water.. No, wasteful, wilting. Don't need it, they do. They're dying. Too cold, too bright, can't breathe." Cole was sure they wouldn't know that he was talking about plants that lacked the water needed to grow (not to mention it was too cold) but he didn't need the water. The plants did.
[ hello muse ]
