Frost 82nd, 120th Year, AoS
He ran. His feet carried him further down the slopey underbrush of the forested hillside, his leather boots stomping hard on the ground as he reached the bottom of the fold. Where he was headed? A decimated ruin? No. This wasn't the same as before. This was a smoking village as the flames still burned brightly, having left no real sign or trace of anything or anyone in its wake. But why? Why did this place look completely immolated by a natural disaster, and what became of the people who used to live here before?
Rickter's eyes widened in pure awe at the scene before him, his very heart-wrenching in pain as he looked to a building in particular. A clan based home, the torched remains of the framework suggested as much, but the charred bones of this old home meant something to him. It had to. For he started to weep suddenly, as though everything had been taken from him in an instant. Rickter dropped onto his knees then, overcome with a familiar sense of grief, the kind accompanied by nightmares and abominations. Yet, in his sinking into this despair, another voice echoed from a far off distance.
His eyes did not lift as he still looked to the broken shambles of his home, still perplexed as deep within him he felt as though he were truly weeping. "other!" The distant calls from another just now began to reach his ears, as the sight of a younger boy with darkened hair came to kneel beside him. "Brother!" Rickter's focus realigned with the boy, realizing that this was his younger sibling when he did. "We have to leave! Before they find us!" The boy looked to be just on the verge of manhood, his light blue eyes somberly gazing into Rickter's as he pleaded to the wolf. "Please, brother! We have to go!" He started to tear up as well, the devastation in his tone palpable now, leading Rickter to regain his other senses and think.
"They're after us..." The ones who did this... who burned everything down. Looking over his shoulders he sought past the flames, gazing toward the shadows as dread washed over him like a sickness. "My brother needs me." The wolf brought a hand up to the shoulder of his sibling, nodding softly before he rose onto his feet. "Let's go." The brother nodded in earnest, taking Rickter by the forearm with a tug, before charging off in a direction for the wolf to follow. He didn't hesitate. All that mattered in that particular moment was the safety of his brother. Dashing back down the street Rickter had barreled down earlier, chanting could be heard within the air as he ran. It was getting louder and louder... until the sound of thunder came barreling through the sky, and the very heavens themselves began to descend upon the place.
A Dread Mist?
"Run, Alistor!" The younger sibling called out as he glimpsed the above past his shoulder, Rickter putting everything he had into clearing out as the burning town became engulfed within the storm. Aetheric clouds began to condensate around him as he kept going, threatening to swallow him in their midst even with all his speed. "Ru-"
The mist closed around him. Leading Rickter to jump out of his skin as the last remnants of his nightmare lingered, a fading echo of a cry in anguish as though he might've been consumed. It was gone now though. Not the actual storm lingering outside of Kalzasi's outskirts... but the one he clearly dreamt up as he breathed heavily within his bed. Moonlight shone through the cranks of the planks nailed over his window, indicating that he'd slept only somewhat through the night, with a light sheen of sweat coating his head and shoulders in where he lay.
He ran. His feet carried him further down the slopey underbrush of the forested hillside, his leather boots stomping hard on the ground as he reached the bottom of the fold. Where he was headed? A decimated ruin? No. This wasn't the same as before. This was a smoking village as the flames still burned brightly, having left no real sign or trace of anything or anyone in its wake. But why? Why did this place look completely immolated by a natural disaster, and what became of the people who used to live here before?
Rickter's eyes widened in pure awe at the scene before him, his very heart-wrenching in pain as he looked to a building in particular. A clan based home, the torched remains of the framework suggested as much, but the charred bones of this old home meant something to him. It had to. For he started to weep suddenly, as though everything had been taken from him in an instant. Rickter dropped onto his knees then, overcome with a familiar sense of grief, the kind accompanied by nightmares and abominations. Yet, in his sinking into this despair, another voice echoed from a far off distance.
His eyes did not lift as he still looked to the broken shambles of his home, still perplexed as deep within him he felt as though he were truly weeping. "other!" The distant calls from another just now began to reach his ears, as the sight of a younger boy with darkened hair came to kneel beside him. "Brother!" Rickter's focus realigned with the boy, realizing that this was his younger sibling when he did. "We have to leave! Before they find us!" The boy looked to be just on the verge of manhood, his light blue eyes somberly gazing into Rickter's as he pleaded to the wolf. "Please, brother! We have to go!" He started to tear up as well, the devastation in his tone palpable now, leading Rickter to regain his other senses and think.
"They're after us..." The ones who did this... who burned everything down. Looking over his shoulders he sought past the flames, gazing toward the shadows as dread washed over him like a sickness. "My brother needs me." The wolf brought a hand up to the shoulder of his sibling, nodding softly before he rose onto his feet. "Let's go." The brother nodded in earnest, taking Rickter by the forearm with a tug, before charging off in a direction for the wolf to follow. He didn't hesitate. All that mattered in that particular moment was the safety of his brother. Dashing back down the street Rickter had barreled down earlier, chanting could be heard within the air as he ran. It was getting louder and louder... until the sound of thunder came barreling through the sky, and the very heavens themselves began to descend upon the place.
A Dread Mist?
"Run, Alistor!" The younger sibling called out as he glimpsed the above past his shoulder, Rickter putting everything he had into clearing out as the burning town became engulfed within the storm. Aetheric clouds began to condensate around him as he kept going, threatening to swallow him in their midst even with all his speed. "Ru-"
The mist closed around him. Leading Rickter to jump out of his skin as the last remnants of his nightmare lingered, a fading echo of a cry in anguish as though he might've been consumed. It was gone now though. Not the actual storm lingering outside of Kalzasi's outskirts... but the one he clearly dreamt up as he breathed heavily within his bed. Moonlight shone through the cranks of the planks nailed over his window, indicating that he'd slept only somewhat through the night, with a light sheen of sweat coating his head and shoulders in where he lay.
