Hidden Tree I'm just the shotgun - Printable Version +- Ruins of Wildwood (https://relic-lore.net) +-- Forum: Library (https://relic-lore.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=23) +--- Forum: Game Archives (https://relic-lore.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=26) +---- Forum: Incompleted Relic Lore (https://relic-lore.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=22) +---- Thread: Hidden Tree I'm just the shotgun (/showthread.php?tid=18965) |
I'm just the shotgun - Vaken - Feb 06, 2019 OOC: for @Circe (takes place after this thread) [dohtml] we appreciate power Well, this wasn't exactly how Vaken intended today going. The wound on his nose really didn't feel good. The sting from the cold air wasn't helping his case, but there was no way to keep it warm. He tried to rub it against his shoulder but that just irritated it more, reopening the cut. It was bleeding again now. He couldn't just leave it alone. Whenever a scab would form, he'd itch it off. It was a foolish cycle that he couldn't seem to break- it was so damn itchy. He sat on his rump pathetically, kicking at it with his back foot in anger. He wanted to rip off his entire muzzle, just throw his hands in the air in defeat. He had no knowledge of medical plants, no sense of how to properly keep a wound clean. It was only by pure luck that he had survived this long without an infected wound. He was always getting into fights, but this wound? Oh, this one was inconvenient. The blood dripped down his cheek and tangled the fur around his mane, making him even less presentable. He snarled at himself, wincing when his back claw struck it in a mildly painful way. He should just stop, accept it, leave it alone- but he couldn't. Oh god, it was tormenting him. [/dohtml] RE: I'm just the shotgun - Circe - Feb 06, 2019 [dohtml] [/dohtml] RE: I'm just the shotgun - Vaken - Feb 06, 2019 OOC warning: mild swearing [dohtml] we appreciate power It wasn't his proudest moment, but Vaken wasn't ashamed of his current behaviour. He was far too focused on the source of his annoyance than to be embarrassed. Sure, Circe's opinion of him was important, but he was driving himself mad with this itch. He didn't have the time to consider how he looked, how ridiculous the petite man seemed. Her voice caught his attention, redirected his eyes to her angelic face. "I got into a fight," he hissed through clenched teeth. "This bitch bit my muzzle, pretty hard too." He stopped the excessive itching momentarily, reaching out to allow her a good look. "It isn't deep, but it stings," he added, softening his tone. There was no use being mad, the fight was over and the woman was long gone. He inhaled a deep breath, trying to concentrate on anything other than the sharp sting. A small drop of blood fell into the snow, staining the white a bright shade of crimson. He stomped on it with his front paw, smashing it into the ground. He felt weak in that moment and it enraged him. [/dohtml] |