Post by Lone Dancer on Dec 17, 2021 7:01:45 GMT
"Come on Dad!" His daughter squealed, running underneath legs in energetic manner, just zooming all over the place.
"Whoa there sweetie, I am, just give me a sec." He couldn't help but smile at her antics, as he turned towards the door, pushing it open. Sunlight and fresher air streamed in, illuminating the self-made cabin. His daughter was a blur as she shot out of the door towards the nearby forest. He shook his head, chuckling to himself.
The patrolling dragon, Stone, a dull scaled sandwing with a constant smoking cigar in their mouth, gave a lazy wave to the father. He waved back. Stone was a friendly fellow, with many a story to tell. He had strange sense of uneasiness, but he shrugged it off. It was early morning, so morning sickness was possible. Still, the feeling lurked in the corners of his mind, unable to be fully dismissed.
As Stone was about to continue his rounds, he gave one look back. His eyes widened, and cigar dropped from his open mouth. He made a strangled grunting sound, which drew the father's attention. Stone pointed towards the forest.
The sight before him felt like it drained the world of all color, reducing everything to grey. His daughter was trapped under an iron netting, scavengers swarming around her, poking her with shark metal claws as she cried in pain. Everything began to slow down when blood began to be drawn.
He reached for her but he was too far away. He kept reaching and reaching, but he was too slow. Far too slow. His daughter mewled, ringing out like a distorted bell as a metal claw pierced her stomach.
Hewasn'tfastenoughHewasn'tfastenoughHewasn'tfastenoughHewasn'tfastenough.
Agony ripped through him as could only bear witness as his daughter bled out crimson, cries growing ever weaker. His throat burned from the roar of true pain, the pain of the soul, that he wasn't even aware he was producing. He felt lumbering, terribly slow as he stumbled towards his dying daughter, but the scavengers chattered in glee, dragging the iron netting away, catch caught.
Stone was also too far away, and could only watch with pained eyes at the sight.
He was going to burn them all. Every last one. Grief and rage inter-mashed with the other, battling it out within his mind as his primal reactions to this display. Rage won out, for now. With a burst of speed that served to propel him closer to his daughter, but also increasing his own self loathing for letting such a thing happen, he leapt towards his daughter, wings swooping.
Like dust into the water, the scavengers swiftly dispersed into the woods, as he swept through the trees, blasting flame at any moving thing. He searched and he searched and he searched.
It was midnight when he found her body. Many chunks of flesh were removed, and her remain were nigh unrecognizable. She was made into a meal. His precious daughter, mere lunch to these scavengers. It was too much. Rage subsided to overwhelming grief and he considered taking his claw to his throat.
He couldn't go with it in the end. Broken, he wandered aimlessly back to his house. It wasn't home anymore. The villagers circled around his cabin, but he ignored them. Stone tried to place his claws comforting on his shoulder, but he was numb on the inside. He removed the claw from his shoulder, and headed inside.
The following morning, no one was able to find him, all traces of him beside his cabin gone, which was stripped bare, only specks of ashes remaining.
But amidst the ashes was a cracked wooden figurine of a dragon. On it, "Dad" was scrawled childlessy over near it.
A slash from a larger claw crossed out the word.
"Whoa there sweetie, I am, just give me a sec." He couldn't help but smile at her antics, as he turned towards the door, pushing it open. Sunlight and fresher air streamed in, illuminating the self-made cabin. His daughter was a blur as she shot out of the door towards the nearby forest. He shook his head, chuckling to himself.
The patrolling dragon, Stone, a dull scaled sandwing with a constant smoking cigar in their mouth, gave a lazy wave to the father. He waved back. Stone was a friendly fellow, with many a story to tell. He had strange sense of uneasiness, but he shrugged it off. It was early morning, so morning sickness was possible. Still, the feeling lurked in the corners of his mind, unable to be fully dismissed.
As Stone was about to continue his rounds, he gave one look back. His eyes widened, and cigar dropped from his open mouth. He made a strangled grunting sound, which drew the father's attention. Stone pointed towards the forest.
The sight before him felt like it drained the world of all color, reducing everything to grey. His daughter was trapped under an iron netting, scavengers swarming around her, poking her with shark metal claws as she cried in pain. Everything began to slow down when blood began to be drawn.
He reached for her but he was too far away. He kept reaching and reaching, but he was too slow. Far too slow. His daughter mewled, ringing out like a distorted bell as a metal claw pierced her stomach.
Hewasn'tfastenoughHewasn'tfastenoughHewasn'tfastenoughHewasn'tfastenough.
Agony ripped through him as could only bear witness as his daughter bled out crimson, cries growing ever weaker. His throat burned from the roar of true pain, the pain of the soul, that he wasn't even aware he was producing. He felt lumbering, terribly slow as he stumbled towards his dying daughter, but the scavengers chattered in glee, dragging the iron netting away, catch caught.
Stone was also too far away, and could only watch with pained eyes at the sight.
He was going to burn them all. Every last one. Grief and rage inter-mashed with the other, battling it out within his mind as his primal reactions to this display. Rage won out, for now. With a burst of speed that served to propel him closer to his daughter, but also increasing his own self loathing for letting such a thing happen, he leapt towards his daughter, wings swooping.
Like dust into the water, the scavengers swiftly dispersed into the woods, as he swept through the trees, blasting flame at any moving thing. He searched and he searched and he searched.
It was midnight when he found her body. Many chunks of flesh were removed, and her remain were nigh unrecognizable. She was made into a meal. His precious daughter, mere lunch to these scavengers. It was too much. Rage subsided to overwhelming grief and he considered taking his claw to his throat.
He couldn't go with it in the end. Broken, he wandered aimlessly back to his house. It wasn't home anymore. The villagers circled around his cabin, but he ignored them. Stone tried to place his claws comforting on his shoulder, but he was numb on the inside. He removed the claw from his shoulder, and headed inside.
The following morning, no one was able to find him, all traces of him beside his cabin gone, which was stripped bare, only specks of ashes remaining.
But amidst the ashes was a cracked wooden figurine of a dragon. On it, "Dad" was scrawled childlessy over near it.
A slash from a larger claw crossed out the word.