Post by abyss on Oct 23, 2008 14:32:38 GMT -5
Characters involved:
Chesmu, male cougar
Synopsis: Chesmu dreams about his mother, Imala.
As the former Chieftain of the Amaranth tribe sinks into deep slumber, a vision forms in the peaceful darkness of his mind: a landscape, recognizable despite the stark white snow blanketing everything, including the formation of stones. Though the area is familiar to Chesmu, in the dream it seems bleak and somehow ominous. What little color that remains is strangely faded; the last leaves clinging to the nearby trees look pale and washed-out, a sort of lifeless grey-brown. As the breeze picks up, a few of them flutter past, and moments later a raven sweeps down from a clouded, colorless sky. It lands on the tip of the largest stone, quorking and flapping its wings agitatedly.
Chesmu looks around. He knows this place, and his heart sinks. No! "What am I doing here?" Chesmu says, looking around. This is where he grew up!
For a moment, the raven is too distracted to notice the cougar below. It takes a few short hops across the top of the rock, leaving talon-tracks in the snow that has collected there, all the while looking expectantly upward. When Chesmu speaks, however, it turns his head sharply toward him. Beak clacking, feathers ruffling, it spans its wings and seems to glare at the cougar... who looks much younger than present-day Chesmu, barely an adolescent. "Mother!" it cries out in a harsh caw, an accusational sound that echoes through the area.
Chesmu blinks when he realizes how young he sounds. He backs up when the raven shouts "Mother!" at him. "I'm... I'm not your mother." The cougar replies.
It turns out that the raven was only the first of many. It looks up again when another lands on a nearby rock. More arrive in twos and threes until the corvids cover every stone, cawing bad-temperedly as they jostle for space. Ink-black feathers, dislodged by darting beaks, swirl down into the ground while the birds settle irritably into their crowded positions. Finally, the first raven turns its head to look back down at Chesmu, and, in unison, the others follow suit. This time cougar is subjected to the combined intensity of a hundred glaring black eyes. "Mother," the first croaks again; the others echo it, disrupting the silence with an eerie muttering. "Mothermothermotherotherererrr..."
Chesmu turns around and tries to run. "What do you want?!"
In an explosion of black feathers, the ravens launch themselves into the air. As their wings beat and batter together, a strong wind blasts through the landscape, ruffling through Chesmu's fur with icy fingers. The combined sound of the birds' caws drowns everything else out, and it only grows louder, more overwhelming, as they pursue the young cougar through the snow.
Chesmu trips and falls into the snow. "Leave me alone! What do you want!" Chesmu shrieks. And it doesn't feel at all odd to Chesmu that he would act like this. He whimpers and squeezes his eyes closed.
The birds do not descend on Chesmu, pecking and tearing, when he falls. Instead they settle all around him, forming a rough circle. They reluctantly quiet down for a moment as they land, their angry caws trailing off with a few last angry quorks and mutterings. The ravens have barely settled into place when a shape appears, flowing seamlessly from the shadows. The cougaress looks as she did on the day Chesmu last saw her -- save for the feverish brightness of her yellow eyes. In the gloom they appear to glow as they gaze upon her son.
Chesmu backpedals in fear. "No!" Chesmu shouts! It can't be her! He's left her. "Get away!"
Imala looks calmly upon her son, unmoved by his reaction. She continues to move toward him at a slow pace, while the ravens behind Chesmu begin to caw threateningly as he backs his way closer to the edge of the circle. "Chesmu." Not 'my son,' of course. There is no affection in her tone, and her half-sneering expression looks somewhere between pity and disgust. "You have failed again."
Chesmu looks down at his paws and panics. He shrieks in fear and backpedals quickly again. "Go away!" Chesmu says. "You've caused enough pain!"
Now when Chesmu backpedals, he leaves behind tracks filled with blood, which does not seep or melt into the surrounding snow but remains pooled in the impressions left by his youth-sized paws. Just as he utters the word 'pain,' he feels a sharp stab as one of the ravens jabs his rear ankle with its beak. "Pain! Pain!" cry the birds just outside of range, as if cheering their comrade on. "Less than you've deserved," the cougaress says, over the raucous calls. "But perhaps the failure is mine... for not killing you."
Chesmu yelps when he's pecked by one of the birds and almost rolls right into his mother. Pain. Nothing but pain! "No!" Chesmu says. "I hate you!"
The ravens are growing agitated again. Hopping and flapping their wings, they crowd in around the pair of cougars. When Chesmu screams that he hates her, Imala parts her jaws in a scream of fury, baring her yellowed fangs before lunging at him. "Hate!" a few birds echo, while others answer with excited cries of "Pain! Pain!"
Chesmu eeps with fear and turns to run, only to be surrounded by all the ravens. "Noooo!" With that, Chesmu bolts upright, home, real home, still screaming. "NO!"
Chesmu, male cougar
Synopsis: Chesmu dreams about his mother, Imala.
As the former Chieftain of the Amaranth tribe sinks into deep slumber, a vision forms in the peaceful darkness of his mind: a landscape, recognizable despite the stark white snow blanketing everything, including the formation of stones. Though the area is familiar to Chesmu, in the dream it seems bleak and somehow ominous. What little color that remains is strangely faded; the last leaves clinging to the nearby trees look pale and washed-out, a sort of lifeless grey-brown. As the breeze picks up, a few of them flutter past, and moments later a raven sweeps down from a clouded, colorless sky. It lands on the tip of the largest stone, quorking and flapping its wings agitatedly.
Chesmu looks around. He knows this place, and his heart sinks. No! "What am I doing here?" Chesmu says, looking around. This is where he grew up!
For a moment, the raven is too distracted to notice the cougar below. It takes a few short hops across the top of the rock, leaving talon-tracks in the snow that has collected there, all the while looking expectantly upward. When Chesmu speaks, however, it turns his head sharply toward him. Beak clacking, feathers ruffling, it spans its wings and seems to glare at the cougar... who looks much younger than present-day Chesmu, barely an adolescent. "Mother!" it cries out in a harsh caw, an accusational sound that echoes through the area.
Chesmu blinks when he realizes how young he sounds. He backs up when the raven shouts "Mother!" at him. "I'm... I'm not your mother." The cougar replies.
It turns out that the raven was only the first of many. It looks up again when another lands on a nearby rock. More arrive in twos and threes until the corvids cover every stone, cawing bad-temperedly as they jostle for space. Ink-black feathers, dislodged by darting beaks, swirl down into the ground while the birds settle irritably into their crowded positions. Finally, the first raven turns its head to look back down at Chesmu, and, in unison, the others follow suit. This time cougar is subjected to the combined intensity of a hundred glaring black eyes. "Mother," the first croaks again; the others echo it, disrupting the silence with an eerie muttering. "Mothermothermotherotherererrr..."
Chesmu turns around and tries to run. "What do you want?!"
In an explosion of black feathers, the ravens launch themselves into the air. As their wings beat and batter together, a strong wind blasts through the landscape, ruffling through Chesmu's fur with icy fingers. The combined sound of the birds' caws drowns everything else out, and it only grows louder, more overwhelming, as they pursue the young cougar through the snow.
Chesmu trips and falls into the snow. "Leave me alone! What do you want!" Chesmu shrieks. And it doesn't feel at all odd to Chesmu that he would act like this. He whimpers and squeezes his eyes closed.
The birds do not descend on Chesmu, pecking and tearing, when he falls. Instead they settle all around him, forming a rough circle. They reluctantly quiet down for a moment as they land, their angry caws trailing off with a few last angry quorks and mutterings. The ravens have barely settled into place when a shape appears, flowing seamlessly from the shadows. The cougaress looks as she did on the day Chesmu last saw her -- save for the feverish brightness of her yellow eyes. In the gloom they appear to glow as they gaze upon her son.
Chesmu backpedals in fear. "No!" Chesmu shouts! It can't be her! He's left her. "Get away!"
Imala looks calmly upon her son, unmoved by his reaction. She continues to move toward him at a slow pace, while the ravens behind Chesmu begin to caw threateningly as he backs his way closer to the edge of the circle. "Chesmu." Not 'my son,' of course. There is no affection in her tone, and her half-sneering expression looks somewhere between pity and disgust. "You have failed again."
Chesmu looks down at his paws and panics. He shrieks in fear and backpedals quickly again. "Go away!" Chesmu says. "You've caused enough pain!"
Now when Chesmu backpedals, he leaves behind tracks filled with blood, which does not seep or melt into the surrounding snow but remains pooled in the impressions left by his youth-sized paws. Just as he utters the word 'pain,' he feels a sharp stab as one of the ravens jabs his rear ankle with its beak. "Pain! Pain!" cry the birds just outside of range, as if cheering their comrade on. "Less than you've deserved," the cougaress says, over the raucous calls. "But perhaps the failure is mine... for not killing you."
Chesmu yelps when he's pecked by one of the birds and almost rolls right into his mother. Pain. Nothing but pain! "No!" Chesmu says. "I hate you!"
The ravens are growing agitated again. Hopping and flapping their wings, they crowd in around the pair of cougars. When Chesmu screams that he hates her, Imala parts her jaws in a scream of fury, baring her yellowed fangs before lunging at him. "Hate!" a few birds echo, while others answer with excited cries of "Pain! Pain!"
Chesmu eeps with fear and turns to run, only to be surrounded by all the ravens. "Noooo!" With that, Chesmu bolts upright, home, real home, still screaming. "NO!"