(no subject)
Just a little drabble about the day Vintroz died. His brother is not called by name for a reason, and his sister is Hekkate (slytherinette's char). Heh heh. Don't mind errors.. and it's told from right after 'incident'. Won't go into much detail, as I don't want to spoil too much too soon. Oh ho ho ho.
Title; The Day a Warrior Died
Rating; Eh, PG. lol If only because of gore mentioned. LOL Not heavily or anything.. lol
Warning; I SUCK AT THIS SORT OF SHIT. SO PLEASE FORGIVE IT.
It wasn't until he felt the cold shroud of darkness falling around him that he realized what had happened. Glancing down slightly over his tusks and nose, he could see the glistening sword and long spear driving two separate paths from his chest and torso. He could still hear his tribesmen try to fight onward, failing and falling back to their previous position. He didn't blame them, secretly wishing he could tell them to run. But only blood met his mouth as he slowly felt his body numbing under him. He thought then back to the night before...
Huddled with his brother and the chief by their small campfire late into the night, he glanced up before eying his sibling in question. He listened faintly as their chief warned them, telling them some bad voodoo was lingering on this field. This battle... it brought shudders down his spine in thought, telling the warrior and his sibling it was a death march. But who was he to listen to a senile old man? No, he turned to his brother again, nodding slightly in agreement.
"We'll take it back... our land."
He spoke with a soft tone, underlying the determination to make a statement towards his tribe and family, his sibling only nodding. The chief shook his head, standing to his feet and making small clinking noises as his necklaces chimed against one another and his spear dragged on the ground behind him as he left their little pow wow, leaving them to their own devices. Vintroz glanced down to the dancing flames between them both before hearing his sibling speak to him again.
"You really gonna do it?"
"Yeah, mon. War don' win itself. Jus' try not ta kill them all."
His voice trickled off into a quiet sort of sound. His brother soon pipping up with a sudden excitement he hadn't seen since they'd first arrived.
"You can do it! Hekkate is waitin' on ya! You can' disappoint her mon!"
Vintroz thought for a moment, thinking of how she was waiting on their glorious return. He shook the memory before waving off his brother.
"We'll go back.. no worries, mon."
He watched his brother leave him in a cloud of his dream. Cold already having claimed most of his body now. He could no longer hear the screams and cries of his brothers in arms across the field. He couldn't hear the sounds beyond the ache, the dull throb throughout his chest region. His heartbeat suddenly thundered in a dying, snail pace in his ears. He took a glance skyward, drawing in a quickened gasp before he fell limp. Body slumping against the blood soaked ground beneath him. A battle lost, forgotten amongst the slightly muddy shores.
Well.. let me know what you think. lol <3
Title; The Day a Warrior Died
Rating; Eh, PG. lol If only because of gore mentioned. LOL Not heavily or anything.. lol
Warning; I SUCK AT THIS SORT OF SHIT. SO PLEASE FORGIVE IT.
It wasn't until he felt the cold shroud of darkness falling around him that he realized what had happened. Glancing down slightly over his tusks and nose, he could see the glistening sword and long spear driving two separate paths from his chest and torso. He could still hear his tribesmen try to fight onward, failing and falling back to their previous position. He didn't blame them, secretly wishing he could tell them to run. But only blood met his mouth as he slowly felt his body numbing under him. He thought then back to the night before...
Huddled with his brother and the chief by their small campfire late into the night, he glanced up before eying his sibling in question. He listened faintly as their chief warned them, telling them some bad voodoo was lingering on this field. This battle... it brought shudders down his spine in thought, telling the warrior and his sibling it was a death march. But who was he to listen to a senile old man? No, he turned to his brother again, nodding slightly in agreement.
"We'll take it back... our land."
He spoke with a soft tone, underlying the determination to make a statement towards his tribe and family, his sibling only nodding. The chief shook his head, standing to his feet and making small clinking noises as his necklaces chimed against one another and his spear dragged on the ground behind him as he left their little pow wow, leaving them to their own devices. Vintroz glanced down to the dancing flames between them both before hearing his sibling speak to him again.
"You really gonna do it?"
"Yeah, mon. War don' win itself. Jus' try not ta kill them all."
His voice trickled off into a quiet sort of sound. His brother soon pipping up with a sudden excitement he hadn't seen since they'd first arrived.
"You can do it! Hekkate is waitin' on ya! You can' disappoint her mon!"
Vintroz thought for a moment, thinking of how she was waiting on their glorious return. He shook the memory before waving off his brother.
"We'll go back.. no worries, mon."
He watched his brother leave him in a cloud of his dream. Cold already having claimed most of his body now. He could no longer hear the screams and cries of his brothers in arms across the field. He couldn't hear the sounds beyond the ache, the dull throb throughout his chest region. His heartbeat suddenly thundered in a dying, snail pace in his ears. He took a glance skyward, drawing in a quickened gasp before he fell limp. Body slumping against the blood soaked ground beneath him. A battle lost, forgotten amongst the slightly muddy shores.
Well.. let me know what you think. lol <3