sonder winter 1711

run without thinking

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Lieutenant

from
age
3 years old
gender
Male
size
Extra Large
scent
Cedarwood
supporting
Voxi
threadlog
solar power
writer
Gutz


The day was young. Although weeks ago the golden son had been hapless, he now rested under the trunks of reddened trees with as gentle of a face a soldier could bare. Sunlit streams filtered across his spine as he sprawled across the forest floor, belly brushing against the ground of crackling leaves. Slopes of ivory and sunflower-hue glinted from his shoulders as though he were dipped in summer — forever encapsulated in sunshine and bright colors. Just as the day he was born, a pair of molten-orange eyes stared widely up towards the tree-tops, just before fluttering closed.

He would dream of childhood antics. Sethos and his sisters, Cairo and Xandria, romping through the infantile grasses with dreams no bigger than the sun and the sky itself. The scent of pine and jasmine, muddled with wheat and yew. The comforting aroma of family.

His heart would swell as his mother sat with Kohl, the warrior mother and her knight. Oh, how he would wish to be like his father one day. Fighting for the kingdom, standing at his side.

He's dead, Seth.

A scene much happier suddenly wrought in iron and blood. His sisters faded into the background, the sound of his pulse breaching even dreamscape. He's dead, Seth. A gutteral gasp ripped through his chest, ugly and sour. This wasn't what it was supposed to be. They were just children. They were just playing.

Was it worth it?

Flashbacks from a conversation with Xandria flooded his subconscious. Her face, calm and yet so riddled with emotion. Fire, as he liked to say she had, licked at the surface of her skin.

He's dead, Seth.

Tormented by the ugly twist of dreams, the young male tore himself away from his sleep with a sharp snarl. Dizzy and still reeling, he felt his head snap back as he regained consciousness.

It was just a dream. He repeated in his mind, knowing all too well that this was one he had watched before. It was just a"dream." He finishes aloud, blinking slowly. It always felt so real. These nightmares have haunted him for weeks. He had thought they were finally fading.

Rising to his haunches, he leaned back against the base of a tree. He had been sorely mistaken.

Sighing deeply, he barely flinches when leaves crunch nearby.
code by claerie, art by impalae


@Sif
(This post was last modified: 10-20-2021, 02:05 PM by Sethos1.)
10-20-2021, 03:01 AM
#1

Executioner

from Rionnach
age
5 years old
gender
Female
size
Extra Small
scent
Fresh Snow
supporting
Undecided
home
Rionna
threadlog
Broken Skulls
writer
Lunar
SIF ASGAUT
Steadily she had been heading to where she had been assigned to patrol outside the Mainlands, she generally never agreed going so far from home when discussing expectations of her and her lieutenants with the Major. A sigh flaring her nostrils as it seemed her superior was taking full advantage of her daughter being a yearling now to send her further away. Personally she still felt like she should be guarding her child and managing her time to care for her as if she was still an infant, knowing the world wasn’t safe no matter how many soldiers wore down the trails to guard the masses. Some of those soldiers were even more villainous than that of the thieves guild or rebels.

Her ears flicked a few times as she thought about the ball, the chaos that had ensued while she had been patrolling primarily along the walls, having barely done anything due to not getting there immediately, by the time she had entered most of it had been taken care of by none other than her new recruit from shortly after the war. Baelfire. She never thought she would learn his name so quickly, having allowed his performance in apprehending enemies of the crown and guarding the Parliament as an alternative to the trial young adults usually partook in. He had done well and proved his worth but she was still holding reservations in doing so. He hadn’t been training for long but to say he was completely a novice would be a lie. Taking a breath, she thought she’d go check with his lieutenant to ensure he had been holding his weight and not making a mockery of her premature choice but felt she’d be crossing a line.

Chain of command was there for a reason, if he was doing poorly it wasn’t her immediate choice to fix it unless the one below her failed to do so themselves, then she might have a reasonable means to chide him. She had higher responsibilities to keep track of from new cadets to carrying out everything expected of her than to babysit those she already released from her immediate care. She needed to have faith in his abilities, the very abilities that made her grant him rank in the first place.

Ears perked as she noticed a familiar scent as she made her way further into the Redwood, that grainy scent of wheat and other herbs that made her know just who it was. It didn’t take long to spot the large form that did not fit within the confines of a sea of red. Gold from head to tail, it did not take her long to recognize him as one of Kohl’s progeny, Xandria’s littermate and more recently one of her own underlings out of his request. With how hectic her life had been, there hadn’t been many days she had time to make small talk or bond with him, often just tossing him his assignment or hearing his reports before going on with her day. Maybe today might be a change that as she proceeded toward him with intent on dragging him with her on patrol but as she noticed he was sleeping, there was a small bit of agitation rising in her.

Before it could set full roots however, she watched him suddenly rise up with a start, stopping her from having to stand over him and bark in his ear to get his bum up from the soil and act alert. He looked disheveled from what she could tell by the way his body reacted under its own weight and breath, her gaze scoping the contours of his canary frame. He was young and he had been in the same war as her. He had lost a father. Maybe biting him wasn’t the best course of action in the present time as she faintly heard him speak to himself, hardened gaze softening just a tad but still icy. “Lieutenant Sethos Tiamat,” she addressed sharply but not as much as usual before cutting off the rest of the distance between them, stopping a yard or two away, hoping to snap his mind back to reality and gain his attention.


"Sif speaks"
table by rae - image by Lunicea
10-26-2021, 04:25 PM
#2
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