Coming Home (CA - Saber)
Quote from Deleted user on April 7, 2021, 11:56 pmThe moonlight shone down on the statues of the wolves in the Reknab Bends cemetery. Amongst them was one that was living, but like a wolf in sheep's clothing, deceitfully appeared human in his slim silhouette.
Saber shivered in the chill night air. Still he moved among the headstones unhindered, not surprised in the least by how many shapes of the creature he now had become surrounding him. It was exactly what he expected.
The memory he used to navigate the cemetery was strangely clear, despite how old it was. In fact it had surprised him so much that despite the damage his brain had sustained after his coma, it still came back easily, flowing through him as if it had only been a few weeks ago and nothing more. With each distinctive landmark he passed, all the thoughts and feelings from when he had visited the place as a child came back with full force. He had no idea the place had left such an impression on him, and yet, that didn't surprise him much at all.
Wolves. It was all about the wolves.
Little wolf… Little wolf… Finally back home.
Saber stared down at the head stone solemnly as he exhaled. He had made it to his destination. His body felt rigid as he fought it's attempts to shake- not just from the cold but fatigue and maybe even something more.
He had never known this man whom he considered his father, he only knew of what his mother had told him about him. He was kind, caring, a hard worker. But that didn't matter. He wasn't there, and that always made Saber feel a bit bitter towards him growing up, even if it wasn't the man's choice to be gone. But now, in his weak state of demoralization and desperation, that bitterness seemed to flee as his spiraling thoughts only seemed to lead to one place staring at the carved wolf in stone and the name that accompanied it.
The moonlight shone down on the statues of the wolves in the Reknab Bends cemetery. Amongst them was one that was living, but like a wolf in sheep's clothing, deceitfully appeared human in his slim silhouette.
Saber shivered in the chill night air. Still he moved among the headstones unhindered, not surprised in the least by how many shapes of the creature he now had become surrounding him. It was exactly what he expected.
The memory he used to navigate the cemetery was strangely clear, despite how old it was. In fact it had surprised him so much that despite the damage his brain had sustained after his coma, it still came back easily, flowing through him as if it had only been a few weeks ago and nothing more. With each distinctive landmark he passed, all the thoughts and feelings from when he had visited the place as a child came back with full force. He had no idea the place had left such an impression on him, and yet, that didn't surprise him much at all.
Wolves. It was all about the wolves.
Little wolf… Little wolf… Finally back home.
Saber stared down at the head stone solemnly as he exhaled. He had made it to his destination. His body felt rigid as he fought it's attempts to shake- not just from the cold but fatigue and maybe even something more.
He had never known this man whom he considered his father, he only knew of what his mother had told him about him. He was kind, caring, a hard worker. But that didn't matter. He wasn't there, and that always made Saber feel a bit bitter towards him growing up, even if it wasn't the man's choice to be gone. But now, in his weak state of demoralization and desperation, that bitterness seemed to flee as his spiraling thoughts only seemed to lead to one place staring at the carved wolf in stone and the name that accompanied it.
Quote from Deleted user on April 27, 2021, 6:18 amSaber wasn't sure what to do. He wasn't even really sure why he was there, as he didn't believe in an afterlife. But... with his mother's stories of what her husband was like, it was hard not to wish for a chance to connect with him- even if by some super natural means. Still, if he was somehow around in spirit, Saber had no idea how to go about making contact with him. But heck, if werewolves were real, why couldn't ghosts be? Or even werewolf ghosts. ...Maybe Saber was here simply because he was out of options.
After glancing around, Saber closed his eyes and took a few meditatives breaths. He felt nothing. If ghosts were real, clearly none were interested in speaking to him. After a few more breaths he opened his eyes as contempt entered them, looking down once more at the gravestone.
He was risking his life to be here, and for what? Nothing. Of course there was no afterlife. Of course he was alone as his world crumbled apart. Nobody was ever there who could possibly understand. How could they? His whole life was a complete wildcard bent on his death, becoming a werewolf simply being another manifestation of the fact. No, nobody could ever understand what he'd been through. Nobody ever could.
With the wind blowing through his thin figure causing him to shiver, and the dark loneliness eating him from the inside, (both making him feel especially miserable) he turned to leave. He slipped soundlessly through the night out of the graveyard, before anyone could see him and know- he was one of them now.
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Saber wasn't sure what to do. He wasn't even really sure why he was there, as he didn't believe in an afterlife. But... with his mother's stories of what her husband was like, it was hard not to wish for a chance to connect with him- even if by some super natural means. Still, if he was somehow around in spirit, Saber had no idea how to go about making contact with him. But heck, if werewolves were real, why couldn't ghosts be? Or even werewolf ghosts. ...Maybe Saber was here simply because he was out of options.
After glancing around, Saber closed his eyes and took a few meditatives breaths. He felt nothing. If ghosts were real, clearly none were interested in speaking to him. After a few more breaths he opened his eyes as contempt entered them, looking down once more at the gravestone.
He was risking his life to be here, and for what? Nothing. Of course there was no afterlife. Of course he was alone as his world crumbled apart. Nobody was ever there who could possibly understand. How could they? His whole life was a complete wildcard bent on his death, becoming a werewolf simply being another manifestation of the fact. No, nobody could ever understand what he'd been through. Nobody ever could.
With the wind blowing through his thin figure causing him to shiver, and the dark loneliness eating him from the inside, (both making him feel especially miserable) he turned to leave. He slipped soundlessly through the night out of the graveyard, before anyone could see him and know- he was one of them now.
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