It's been like, what? Seven months since my last upload on here?
I put all the blame on Keenon for this one though. For inspiriting me and what not.
Besides, I haven't used Taveor in awhile, anyway. ;o He's a softy in this one, though. Don't kill me.
It's short, but hey. It's the thought that counts... Right?
The black clouds above poured countless amounts of the heavy rain that annoyingly pelted the now poorly structured house. Lightning flickered into the uncurtained windows, followed by thunder roaring. A soft sigh echoed through the emptied, dark house. He felt right. For some reason the storm, and the darkness relaxed him. Well, as relaxed he could be during a zombie apocalypse. Taveor blinked his doe eyes shut, before stretching his long, slim legs from being bent into Indian style, then leaning back onto the dark hardwood floor. Allowing distant memories clutter his mind.
Memories of what life used to be. Astin, Keenon, Eethon and Ayelex. How he missed the group. Sitting in this very living room, pigging out and playing video games till sunrise. If he could go back in time, he would. But not change a damn thing. Just to relive it all over, and over, and over. Oh, how he used to complain constantly to Keenon about how he hated the life he he lived. But now, in the midst of an apocalypse, he could probably take Ayelex's horrible - annoying country accent. Being assaulted by Astin. And Keenon and Eethon's loud mouth's all night long. He could see them all, in the light, soft yellow hued living room, soda cans and pizza boxes filling the living room, having no walking space what-so-ever. All five of them huddled onto the couch, fighting over the two Xbox360 controllers. He wanted it back. He wanted it all back.
Clouded thoughts of Oliver, Ithus, Mattis and Destrian slowly seeped into his thick skull. What about them? What will they do next, sure they could survive, there's three of them. But would they go on another man hunt for Taveor again? What if Ithus told the others about his late night fiascoes with his pet, would they kill him then take Taveor away kicking and screaming - against his own will? Taveor bit his porcelain lip, remembering the vivid fear in Ithus' sienna eyes as the Hunter bit him. He had never seen her that scared. Not even fighting off witches, did he see that obvious fear. What if she told the others? They must have been suspicious of his random disappearance, anyway. Did she say anything? What if?
Taveor's doe eyes shot open, met by the bloodied, white ceiling. Coming out of dream land, he shot up wide eyed and bloodshot. Like waking up out of a bad dream. Where was he? He'd been particularly quiet within the last few hours. What if... Taveor shot up off the ground, so fast he struggled to get up straight onto his feet. Once stable to move: he took a few slow steps, running his soft, pale fingertips against the blood splattered wall. He approached the corner reluctantly; almost afraid to turn it. But slowly, he turned on his heel, his worn out converse squeaked when meeting the dark hardwood floor.
The kitchen walls were a creme colored, covered with crimson splatters and the smell of rotting flesh. The stench was enough to even make Taveor want to gag. "Lieber Gott.." He hissed under his breath. Lightning flickered as Taveor scavenged the kitchen for his deranged pet. "Hund." He managed to choke out, from his what felt like collapsing throat. Not a hiss, not a growl. Just complete silence, other than the roaring black sky above. Taveor trudged along the kitchen, before he saw it. 'Hund', in the corner, beside the backdoor. Taveor picked up his pace, toward the infected, once again calling his name. This time, almost in a pleading tone.
Taveor stopped in his tracks about two steps away. Looking down, his chest feeling tight, his throat burned, and his heart pulsed with anxiety. He bent down slowly, then transitioned into a squat, his long legs popping as he did so. "Hund?" His call was met by a soft growl and a slight twitch. "Was machst du, du Idiot?" Taveor hissed softly, slightly prodding the beast with a pale index finger. Yet another twitch. "Das ist nicht lustig, Hund." Taveor hissed. A raspy, yet soft growl erupted from the Hunter's mouth. Taveor stared, at Hund's mouth. Letting his mind process. He was sleeping.
With a soft sigh, Taveor stood up, then grabbed the lime green bed sheet off of the maple kitchen counter. Then, turning back to his Hund, Taveor covered him up, everything except his head. Like a mother might do to their child. Taveor turned to his head, then right, then behind him, then turned his head towards Hund. But with a soft, gentle smile carved onto his pale features. "Gutenacht, Hund.."