Post by Cancer on Feb 6, 2008 22:30:36 GMT -5
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Augustus
Age:
14
How long you've been roleplaying:
3 to 4 years
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Pecora
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2
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Mexican Gray Wolf
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Male
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Were those, tears? Faucets turned on by what? Guilt, or fear of what he was about to do?
That's right, folks. Jack was taking the coward's way out. What reasons did he have to go on, anyway? Death didn't exactly sound warm, but it didn't sound half bad, either...
How was he to go about this? His blue gaze lifted from his paws to the surrounding features, the rock drawing the most attention.
Hah, Persecution Ridge. Fitting. He aimed his steps to the looming figure as they sped. How was he to go about this?
Suddenly, sight was failing him, the land unfocusing before him. He kept on, aware of how close he was drawing.
With a sickening crunch, Jack hit the stone headon. The maned wolf stumbled back a few steps, something slipping through his fur; he was bleeding. He blinked, then began backing up, ready for another charge. Surely, there had to be a more humane way of terminating yourself. However, Jack felt incredibly numb, the crack in his skull but a dull ache, something from years ago, it seemed.
He shot foward again, lifting his chin before he collided. Another crack resounded through the area. This time, he felt it. He started choking, his whole head was on fire, and his snout, which felt incredibly shorter, he couldn't move it an inch.
Bet he deserved it... Rage could be writhing in pain right now. Of course, he'd never forced her to that choice, never forced her to love him. He'd told her, he'd told her to just leave him be. He didn't want to get back into this shit. But did she listen? She fucking forced him into this, using that dirty technique of hers. It hadn't worked again... Jack hadn't been stupid enough to chase after her while she turned into some homicidal freak. Turned into? Scratch that. She'd been it all along, hadn't she? What the hell had he fallen for, anyways? The chance that maybe this time, this time it would work out?
That had definitely backfired. But, whatever. What did it matter, really? Who cared about his pain?
He took another go at the wall, a crack splitting somewhere above his eyes. It was getting difficult to hold onto conciousness now. Blood was flooding his eyes. And now, he'd let himself bleed to death. To assure it, as if he needed to, he began gnawing through his legs.
That's right, folks. Jack was taking the coward's way out. What reasons did he have to go on, anyway? Death didn't exactly sound warm, but it didn't sound half bad, either...
How was he to go about this? His blue gaze lifted from his paws to the surrounding features, the rock drawing the most attention.
Hah, Persecution Ridge. Fitting. He aimed his steps to the looming figure as they sped. How was he to go about this?
Suddenly, sight was failing him, the land unfocusing before him. He kept on, aware of how close he was drawing.
With a sickening crunch, Jack hit the stone headon. The maned wolf stumbled back a few steps, something slipping through his fur; he was bleeding. He blinked, then began backing up, ready for another charge. Surely, there had to be a more humane way of terminating yourself. However, Jack felt incredibly numb, the crack in his skull but a dull ache, something from years ago, it seemed.
He shot foward again, lifting his chin before he collided. Another crack resounded through the area. This time, he felt it. He started choking, his whole head was on fire, and his snout, which felt incredibly shorter, he couldn't move it an inch.
Bet he deserved it... Rage could be writhing in pain right now. Of course, he'd never forced her to that choice, never forced her to love him. He'd told her, he'd told her to just leave him be. He didn't want to get back into this shit. But did she listen? She fucking forced him into this, using that dirty technique of hers. It hadn't worked again... Jack hadn't been stupid enough to chase after her while she turned into some homicidal freak. Turned into? Scratch that. She'd been it all along, hadn't she? What the hell had he fallen for, anyways? The chance that maybe this time, this time it would work out?
That had definitely backfired. But, whatever. What did it matter, really? Who cared about his pain?
He took another go at the wall, a crack splitting somewhere above his eyes. It was getting difficult to hold onto conciousness now. Blood was flooding his eyes. And now, he'd let himself bleed to death. To assure it, as if he needed to, he began gnawing through his legs.