fill: we'll eat you up we love you so - rickon 1/8demi_rabbitMay 12 2012, 06:54:06 UTC
( a/n: let's see how fast i can crank this out, though no promises it'll actually be speedy. sometimes kink meme fills turn into plotty things that take thought and ugh, but this one is fun already~ )
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we'll eat you up we love you so
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The night Max wore his wolf suit and made mischief of one kind and another. His mother called him "Wild Thing!" And Max said, "I'll eat you up!!" So he was sent to bed without eating anything. There are times where he cannot feel his feet for the cold. The aches have gone to be replaced by sharp, icy needles that snag at his feet and make him stumble, just like catching his stocking on the odd nail around the halls of Winterfell used to make him do, too. There are times - more times - where he cannot fool his stomach into thinking it is full by eating snow. Osha is a capable hunter, forager, and thief, but the further from the warm roads they go, the more into the snow they proceed, and the more they walk, the harder and harder it becomes to find any sort of sustenance at all, and when she slips him
( ... )
fill: we'll eat you up we love you so - rickon 2a/8demi_rabbitMay 12 2012, 07:38:16 UTC
That very night in Max's room a forest grew, and grew, and grew until the ceiling hung with vines and the walls became the world all around and an ocean tumble by with a private boat for Max. Those are not the only dreams he has, though. Sometimes he dreams of Shaggydog and he finds his hunger mirrored there. The wolf has enough energy to continue being foul tempered when Rickon does not; he bounds through the undergrowth while Rickon clings to Osha's shoulders and hides his face from the elements by burying it in her furs. The direwolf runs while the little boy shivers and limps from the growing blisters on his feet. His shoes are growing too small for him; they let in the sting of the cold, allow it to seep into his boots, his socks, his toes and his bones until he cries with practically every step. Osha carries him for the most part now, and when they bed down at night he rarely moves from wherever she places him. He has grown weak in his hunger, sickly; his nose runs freely only to freeze on his face and he's long since stopped
( ... )
fill: we'll eat you up we love you so - rickon 2b/8demi_rabbitMay 12 2012, 07:38:35 UTC
"It's not much farther, my prince," she tells him.
Behind them, Rickon can sense more than hear Shaggydog approaching. For a brief moment it's as if he can see the dark lump in the shaded snow that is himself and the wildling woman from the wolf's eyes, like he's dreaming, but the moment is gone faster than it came and he's parting his lips to talk.
"Where?" His lips crack with the word, voice cracky from disuse and choked off as he makes to swallow and gets stuck on his own tongue.
He can't remember. It distresses him slightly, to not be able to remember where they were running to, or what they were running from; why they kept on running even though both were tired and hungry and cold and weak. He had lost the will to question, but as the sheer unfairness of the whole situation struck him again - the whole unfairness that he did not know the situation - there was a hot sting behind his eyes and tears began to well. They do not fall, however. Rickon blinks madly and raises cold, gloved hands to grind his fists into his eyes and
( ... )
fill: we'll eat you up we love you so - rickon 3a/8demi_rabbitMay 17 2012, 06:07:47 UTC
And when he came to the place where the wild things are they roared their terrible roars! The men around the campfire had laughed when first they'd seen them, huddled in furs and walking with the distinctive limps that came from traveling long distances on foot. Two rose from their seats around the fire, and Rickon felt Osha stiffen behind him. He had been ill on the short boat ride from the main land to the Skagos island - though more often than not it had simply been tearful nights brought on by the contempt he felt that his wildling guardian had insisted they steer clear of the wall, of Jon who was possibly the only brother he had left (and one of the few he could remember; Jon looked like father, right?) - and now she never strayed far. But this time when she gripped his shoulder and made to draw him behind her, there was something distinctly protective, tense, and almost a little terrifying if he would admit it. The sword they had stolen from the crypt of Winterfell hung at her hip, and even as she pushed him behind her, her other
( ... )
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-
we'll eat you up we love you so
-
The night Max wore his wolf suit and made mischief of one kind and another. His mother called him "Wild Thing!" And Max said, "I'll eat you up!!" So he was sent to bed without eating anything.
There are times where he cannot feel his feet for the cold. The aches have gone to be replaced by sharp, icy needles that snag at his feet and make him stumble, just like catching his stocking on the odd nail around the halls of Winterfell used to make him do, too. There are times - more times - where he cannot fool his stomach into thinking it is full by eating snow. Osha is a capable hunter, forager, and thief, but the further from the warm roads they go, the more into the snow they proceed, and the more they walk, the harder and harder it becomes to find any sort of sustenance at all, and when she slips him ( ... )
Reply
Those are not the only dreams he has, though. Sometimes he dreams of Shaggydog and he finds his hunger mirrored there. The wolf has enough energy to continue being foul tempered when Rickon does not; he bounds through the undergrowth while Rickon clings to Osha's shoulders and hides his face from the elements by burying it in her furs. The direwolf runs while the little boy shivers and limps from the growing blisters on his feet. His shoes are growing too small for him; they let in the sting of the cold, allow it to seep into his boots, his socks, his toes and his bones until he cries with practically every step. Osha carries him for the most part now, and when they bed down at night he rarely moves from wherever she places him. He has grown weak in his hunger, sickly; his nose runs freely only to freeze on his face and he's long since stopped ( ... )
Reply
"It's not much farther, my prince," she tells him.
Behind them, Rickon can sense more than hear Shaggydog approaching. For a brief moment it's as if he can see the dark lump in the shaded snow that is himself and the wildling woman from the wolf's eyes, like he's dreaming, but the moment is gone faster than it came and he's parting his lips to talk.
"Where?" His lips crack with the word, voice cracky from disuse and choked off as he makes to swallow and gets stuck on his own tongue.
He can't remember. It distresses him slightly, to not be able to remember where they were running to, or what they were running from; why they kept on running even though both were tired and hungry and cold and weak. He had lost the will to question, but as the sheer unfairness of the whole situation struck him again - the whole unfairness that he did not know the situation - there was a hot sting behind his eyes and tears began to well. They do not fall, however. Rickon blinks madly and raises cold, gloved hands to grind his fists into his eyes and ( ... )
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
The men around the campfire had laughed when first they'd seen them, huddled in furs and walking with the distinctive limps that came from traveling long distances on foot. Two rose from their seats around the fire, and Rickon felt Osha stiffen behind him. He had been ill on the short boat ride from the main land to the Skagos island - though more often than not it had simply been tearful nights brought on by the contempt he felt that his wildling guardian had insisted they steer clear of the wall, of Jon who was possibly the only brother he had left (and one of the few he could remember; Jon looked like father, right?) - and now she never strayed far. But this time when she gripped his shoulder and made to draw him behind her, there was something distinctly protective, tense, and almost a little terrifying if he would admit it. The sword they had stolen from the crypt of Winterfell hung at her hip, and even as she pushed him behind her, her other ( ... )
Reply
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