Poison Path Jailbreak

For @Roland

Ain't breaking no rocks on the chain gang

It should have been a simple case of deja vu, waking under the earth, mottled light filtering through the entrance... but it was wrong, all wrong, and instead of warm and safe, he had to fight a lingering sense of dread in the pit of his stomach. The cold tendrils of fear were clawing their way into his throat and choking him. Why hadn't anyone noticed yet? Where was his mother? His father? His sister? Sure it wasn't strange for the boy to wander off but surely by now it was evident that something was off, wrong. Maybe, they were all still too busy looking for Nash? What if this was what happened to him too?

The boy stretched his lanky, creamy limbs, wincing at the pain that twisted like a knife in his shoulder. He should have just gone along without a fuss, but would he still be alive if he had? His lips pursed together while he fought back a worried sound in the back of his throat, deciding instead it would be better to face the devil with defiance, allowing his lips to pull back as a shadow moved past the entrance of the former pack den. He wasn't dead yet and Ro knew it, but the boy confirmed it now with a growl.

I'm breakin' out and headin' home

Roland was starting to feel something other than the irritation and jealousy that always bit at his heels. It had come on like night's frost, slow and creeping, but now that it covered everything, it was impossible to ignore. It was anxiety, cold and corrupting, and it ate away at his confidence that what he was doing was right. Not morally, of course, that was obviously a negative; but right in that it would get him what he wanted, work the way he planned.

After all, Chan hadn't done shit about his own sibling vanishing; a stroke of luck wasted. Maybe, he'd wanted to cling to his naivety though, not believe Roland had really acted. Now with Elwood gone, golden boy wouldn't have a choice, right? Or would missing not be enough?

What if he had to kill the kid? It wouldn't have been a question a week ago, before anything was real and tangible. Now, though, pacing outside of the little hovel he'd stored the whelp in, he found himself deeply troubled by the realization that... he might not be able to bring himself to actually do it.

His ears flipped up as he finally heard something from within. It wasn't a whimper or a question like he'd been expecting though. Oh no, the pale little shit was giving him a defiant growl. Roland was quick to scoff, turning to face the den's entrance so that his own large frame would cut off any means of escape.

"Big and tough now, are ya?" he sneered, making sure to show teeth as he spoke each word.

"You really think it'll make a difference?"

Ain't breaking no rocks on the chain gang

He tried to think of what his mother might tell him to do in a situation like this. He very much doubted it'd be something like, Keep your head down, or maybe it would because if the older wolf grabbed a hold of his throat he was done for. He kinda wished he had been a bit more insistent on asking his parents to teach him to fight, instead of just being content to play with his sister. Maybe, if he managed to survive this, he'd be a bit more outspoken about it.

Roland's words cut into the back of his brain, he wasn't really interested in making a difference right now, the adrenalin that was building in his system left a stone at the back of his throat, and hell, he wasn't gonna cry, not in front of this guy. He just had to figure out a way to get out of all of this alive, and there was no back passage out of this hole in the ground, and a much larger, older wolf was blocking the only exit.

Trying to think of all the prey that had escaped him, his memory was called to a rat, that he thought had been well and truly cornered. A bitter smirk twisted at his lips, oh how the tables had turned. He was too tall now to effectively streak through Roland's legs, but maybe if he aimed low enough he'd be able to scramble free? Urgh, he was probably gonna get bitten again, but this was his only shot.

Clenching his jaw, the boy took a deep breath and leaned back. Be quick, be quick, you don't have to be strong, just faster than him... A challenge, to be sure, with his shorter legs and less of a chance to build up any real stamina, but fighting wouldn't increase his chances of survival. His only real hope was flight.

Elwood tucked his head low, kept his legs bent, and blindly charged towards the legs that were in the way of freedom, hoping beyond hope, that he would be able to force his way out between them.

I'm breakin' out and headin' home

(This post was last modified: Oct 13, 2018, 10:49 PM by Elwood.)