07-22-2018, 08:40 PM
[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 55%; line-height:115%; text-align: justify;font-family: calibri;"]Eat.
It was a word that Myliu had learned during his time in the strange place where different animals took care of him, making the pain go away and the reaper go back into the shadows to appear for another date. It was one among many that he taught himself whenever they came by, the other most prominent ones being "come," "go," and, of course, "help." He liked that last word a lot. It was what had kept him alive, what they claimed to do any time they came over to give him strange herbs and medicines that soothed the pain of the wounds.
He had been in worse shape than he realized, although he hadn't been paying attention much to his state to have known just how bad it was to begin with. All he knew was that the hours soon had turned into even longer hours (days, as he was told), and those days were quick to turn into weeks and then months, until eventually he was deemed healthy enough to leave and explore the area.
And leave he did.
The last command that had been given to him was "go," and so he had went, leaving the den to instead settle down right outside of it, uncertain of his actions and where he was supposed to "go." Was he supposed to leave entirely? Or stay outside where the medicine people could find him? For now it was safer to assume the latter, as he was afraid to anger any one of the creatures that were capable of killing him with a look.
He just wished that someone had told him to "eat." He liked that word. It meant he got food, and right now... there was none, and he was feeling awfully peckish.
It was a word that Myliu had learned during his time in the strange place where different animals took care of him, making the pain go away and the reaper go back into the shadows to appear for another date. It was one among many that he taught himself whenever they came by, the other most prominent ones being "come," "go," and, of course, "help." He liked that last word a lot. It was what had kept him alive, what they claimed to do any time they came over to give him strange herbs and medicines that soothed the pain of the wounds.
He had been in worse shape than he realized, although he hadn't been paying attention much to his state to have known just how bad it was to begin with. All he knew was that the hours soon had turned into even longer hours (days, as he was told), and those days were quick to turn into weeks and then months, until eventually he was deemed healthy enough to leave and explore the area.
And leave he did.
The last command that had been given to him was "go," and so he had went, leaving the den to instead settle down right outside of it, uncertain of his actions and where he was supposed to "go." Was he supposed to leave entirely? Or stay outside where the medicine people could find him? For now it was safer to assume the latter, as he was afraid to anger any one of the creatures that were capable of killing him with a look.
He just wished that someone had told him to "eat." He liked that word. It meant he got food, and right now... there was none, and he was feeling awfully peckish.
♔ — I want brimstone in my garden