DUSKPOOL
It started like any other nightmare. Just another run-of-the-mill dream that Duskpool ain't ever gonna escape. It left Duskpool starin' blankly at the den's wall, stiffer than a log and barely aware of where he was. His vision warped between the past and the present. Of Sakura's corpse. Honeysplashcomb's frozen smile. Havardur broken. Children he'd never set his eyes on again. Of faceless cats, he'd sunk his teeth to spare them the sufferin' a pained death.
"Shit." He coughed, rollin' out of his nest, desperate for air, anythin' to get out of here before everythin' collapsed in on itself. His mind an ugly, rotten mess. His features twisted in grief, pent up from moons' worth of trauma shoved in the deepest part of his mind to collect dust, forever stainin' his paws and leavin' him a rotten sinner waitin' to be trailed for everyone he failed to save.
His bulky frame breached past the den's openin' with a shuddered breath, head bowed, unwillin' to let anyone see what he'd become on nights like these. He needed to be elsewhere, not here. His unwillingness to be seen like this. He needed to leave.
With his thoughts a muddled mess, Duskpool was truly unaware of footsteps until it was too late, fear strikin' his heart, body growin' tense until he whipped around with a wrinkled curl of his scarred muzzle, mangled ears buzzin', unable to hear anythin' but the harsh sound of his breath, "Get away." His voice a deep guttural growl. His pitch a smokey snarl, loud and intimidatin'. His gaze elsewhere, starin' away from 'em, chest tight, shame and disgust coilin' deep beneath his mangled flesh.
"Shit." He coughed, rollin' out of his nest, desperate for air, anythin' to get out of here before everythin' collapsed in on itself. His mind an ugly, rotten mess. His features twisted in grief, pent up from moons' worth of trauma shoved in the deepest part of his mind to collect dust, forever stainin' his paws and leavin' him a rotten sinner waitin' to be trailed for everyone he failed to save.
His bulky frame breached past the den's openin' with a shuddered breath, head bowed, unwillin' to let anyone see what he'd become on nights like these. He needed to be elsewhere, not here. His unwillingness to be seen like this. He needed to leave.
we're only haunted by the things we refuse to accept
-
DUSKPOOL he/him a storm carved in flesh and smoke, duskpool towers with the bulk of a maine coon and norwegin forest cat. his wooly black pelt bristles with ghost-stripes and scarsโold wounds etched like lightning through dusk. one copper eye burns like molten steel and the other a mangled ruin of war. every step is heavy, thunderousโwar-born, death-burdened, and unflinchingly alive.
แฏโ senior warrior of skyclan (sun guard during coffeestar's reign)
แฏโ brother to outlawbite & thistlestrike, half-brother to flowercloud
แฏโ eighty-three moons; ages on the 1st of every month
แฏโ speech thought action
แฏโ peaceful/healing powerplay permitted -
