Moga: Sniff. This is a sad chapter. So sad. I bet none of you say this
coming.
The alien caves, Raven, and Klex, shrink and begin to blur, before turning into a monotone gray. The gray becomes black, and than, in an instant, a deep blue, with a black cat-like slit. The eye shrinks rapidly, becoming an enormous blur of black fur, before that to begins to shrink. The hardened orange-brown is cracked, showing signs of there being little rain. Amongst the barren dusty land that can be seen, stands a lone tree, if you could even call it that. The tree is rather tall, but straggly and leafless, lifting only a few, admittedly somewhat menacing, braches up towards the sky. The pitiful tree is blackened, a good portion of its root above the ground, forming a small shelter, while the rest search fruitlessly for water that never seemed to have been there.
Pajou lay on the dusty, rain-deprived ground, panting softly beneath a tree. He had just been in a cave with Raven and something that called itself Klex. And now he was here, but he didn't know where here was. He tried to speak, to yell for help, but no sound passed his dry lips. He had been without water for far too long, he knew that. But there was no water. There wasn't anything. Pajou knew, although he didn't want to admit it, there wasn't even hope. Even if he did survive this nothingness, Trigon would hunt him until he died, or told his and Raven's secrets. No. He didn't care if Trigon killed him. He would never tell any of their secrets, not one.
Tranchia let a few tears drip down her black face, unseen because of the hood of the cloak she always wore. She pitied this poor creature. She could see it in his eyes, feel it in his thoughts and emotions. He was dieing, dwindling away to nothing as he lay there. She knew that without a miracle he would die before nightfall. With a heavy sigh, she closed her disproportionately large, insect-like purple eyes and turned away. She knew she could not interfere with this. Not until he accepted death. Once he accepted his fate, in the last moments of his life, she would go to him, and comfort him with the story of a life far worse than anything he could have lived to see. It was her story, the story of her race.
Yet, Tranchia knew there was a ray of hope. He would live on, if not physically. She had seen his dream, not even that. It wasn't a dream; it was a vision, of what was happening. She knew that he would live inside of the girl until she too died. And she would live on in the lives she touched, and with her, he would live too. In a way, she knew, everyone lived forever, spiritually.
Yes. She pitied this creature. He had learned so little in his life. So little about life itself, and so little about himself. Still, she knew a lot more than most people would ever learn in their lives, it was part of who she was. She felt the sharp mental tug of stubborn refusal diminish, flicker into denial, before disappearing into remorseful submission. He had accepted his fate.
Pajou knew he was going to die. His vision was slowly getting darker and blurred. His eyes refused to stay open, but he would not close them. He knew if he did, they would never open again. A few tears worked their way through his dust-ridden coat as he remembered how he would open his eyes to Raven's face, eager eyes gleaming and ready to start the day and find adventure. He knew he would never see her again, and that she would probably never know what happened to him. He didn't care if she never knew how many trials he went through, how much danger he braved, to keep the secrets of friends. No. They were more than friends. They were family. Species aside, Pajou knew he was more of a father to Raven than Trigon ever was. And he was dieing. There would be no one there to comfort Raven when she was scared or lonely. He was leaving her to face the world alone, a little half-breed that every one looked upon with scorn, wanting only to use her a pawn in the game of Life. But she was more than that. She was a person, just like everyone else. And he knew, although he didn't know how, but he knew that she would do great things, but only if Life went the right way. And something told him; life would not go the right way for Raven. No matter how positive he tried to be, he was realistic. And the odds were very much against Raven.
Moga: So, don't you wanna know what happens? Will he die, or will his miracle come? Even I'm not sure! So, send in what you want to happen.
The alien caves, Raven, and Klex, shrink and begin to blur, before turning into a monotone gray. The gray becomes black, and than, in an instant, a deep blue, with a black cat-like slit. The eye shrinks rapidly, becoming an enormous blur of black fur, before that to begins to shrink. The hardened orange-brown is cracked, showing signs of there being little rain. Amongst the barren dusty land that can be seen, stands a lone tree, if you could even call it that. The tree is rather tall, but straggly and leafless, lifting only a few, admittedly somewhat menacing, braches up towards the sky. The pitiful tree is blackened, a good portion of its root above the ground, forming a small shelter, while the rest search fruitlessly for water that never seemed to have been there.
Pajou lay on the dusty, rain-deprived ground, panting softly beneath a tree. He had just been in a cave with Raven and something that called itself Klex. And now he was here, but he didn't know where here was. He tried to speak, to yell for help, but no sound passed his dry lips. He had been without water for far too long, he knew that. But there was no water. There wasn't anything. Pajou knew, although he didn't want to admit it, there wasn't even hope. Even if he did survive this nothingness, Trigon would hunt him until he died, or told his and Raven's secrets. No. He didn't care if Trigon killed him. He would never tell any of their secrets, not one.
Tranchia let a few tears drip down her black face, unseen because of the hood of the cloak she always wore. She pitied this poor creature. She could see it in his eyes, feel it in his thoughts and emotions. He was dieing, dwindling away to nothing as he lay there. She knew that without a miracle he would die before nightfall. With a heavy sigh, she closed her disproportionately large, insect-like purple eyes and turned away. She knew she could not interfere with this. Not until he accepted death. Once he accepted his fate, in the last moments of his life, she would go to him, and comfort him with the story of a life far worse than anything he could have lived to see. It was her story, the story of her race.
Yet, Tranchia knew there was a ray of hope. He would live on, if not physically. She had seen his dream, not even that. It wasn't a dream; it was a vision, of what was happening. She knew that he would live inside of the girl until she too died. And she would live on in the lives she touched, and with her, he would live too. In a way, she knew, everyone lived forever, spiritually.
Yes. She pitied this creature. He had learned so little in his life. So little about life itself, and so little about himself. Still, she knew a lot more than most people would ever learn in their lives, it was part of who she was. She felt the sharp mental tug of stubborn refusal diminish, flicker into denial, before disappearing into remorseful submission. He had accepted his fate.
Pajou knew he was going to die. His vision was slowly getting darker and blurred. His eyes refused to stay open, but he would not close them. He knew if he did, they would never open again. A few tears worked their way through his dust-ridden coat as he remembered how he would open his eyes to Raven's face, eager eyes gleaming and ready to start the day and find adventure. He knew he would never see her again, and that she would probably never know what happened to him. He didn't care if she never knew how many trials he went through, how much danger he braved, to keep the secrets of friends. No. They were more than friends. They were family. Species aside, Pajou knew he was more of a father to Raven than Trigon ever was. And he was dieing. There would be no one there to comfort Raven when she was scared or lonely. He was leaving her to face the world alone, a little half-breed that every one looked upon with scorn, wanting only to use her a pawn in the game of Life. But she was more than that. She was a person, just like everyone else. And he knew, although he didn't know how, but he knew that she would do great things, but only if Life went the right way. And something told him; life would not go the right way for Raven. No matter how positive he tried to be, he was realistic. And the odds were very much against Raven.
Moga: So, don't you wanna know what happens? Will he die, or will his miracle come? Even I'm not sure! So, send in what you want to happen.