Well, the bombing of the Watership Caves was just the cherry on top of a fantastic day.
And if you couldn't understand that was sarcasm, then I of all people fear for you.
Oh, yes, the bombing. In the Fourth Country the obsidian caves coated with moss and dried, crackling bog plants were a hidden haven for those indigenous to the swamp beings. It was a home to many, a thousand year old relic made by Abram himself, some say. All it took was one fleet and 7 bombs of deadly acid to destroy it.
We don't know who is doing this, and why. All we know is that something wants us gone, and most likely for good. As if the idiot who's controlling all of the terrorists thinks that we can't already get the message through the invasion of Soulless, burning villages, and the destruction of the Bridge? Was bombing really necessary?
I feared for those in Anolis. It was the most cultivated, most populated country of the Five, the probable target. They would invade the Palace, assassinate King Kalam, or at least hold him hostage. They would attempt to squeeze the answers they wanted out of him, but fail – pathetically at that; I mean, come on, it's King Kalam – and slit his throat either way. The servants around him witnessing that terrible sight would cave in nearly automatically, if they weren't brave or patriotic enough to take their own lives instead of telling all of Kalam's secrets; if they knew, that is, which isn't very likely. But you never know who's the eavesdropper; the gossiper; the one who knows the most yet never speaks.
The servant who told of what they had heard would be paralyzed with fright, dread and guilt creeping upon them as they registered in their minds just how they might have endangered their home country with the very words that they have spoken. Horror would pool into their hearts, like the scarlet blood seeping from the lifeless King's throat—
The footsteps of a friend awoke me from the terrible thought.
"Ralle?" A soft inquisitive voice called to me.
I turned around. Tari was a dark jaguar with eyes the color of the sea. Ancient tattoos adorned her forehead and sides of her body, mimicking the color of her eyes. She stood behind me, her brows knit as a sign of worry.
"Ralle, we need to go back." Sympathy had weaved into her voice. My nostrils flared. Sympathy was the last thing we needed right now.
"Then go back," I replied. I flexed my wings. "I have something I need to do, first."
Well, I might continue a bit with this. This isn't official, at all; this is for a roleplay that my friend Misty made up.. Appoliss is copyrighted to her, and none of this happened during that time. I need to check with her about the plots and prophecies, since she's the ringmaster of the whole shebang. Daw, I love that word. Shebaaang.
If it's alright with you, though, Misty, lol..., if this really does happen, can I just copy and paste this? Ah, nevermind, nevermind, haha.
Review if you want, I make run on sentences. That I am aware of. I might just roleplay and rewrite what happened in here, though, so I think I will keep going.