09-09-2020, 01:28 AM
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: georgia; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"]SALEM | The news of Aphra becoming a mother brought conflicting feelings. The melanistic kodkod hardly knew the fem, although she seemed very blunt and fond of drama -- Salem found himself wary whenever she was brought up, since good things rarely followed. All the while, the beta found children a pleasure to be around -- their often boundless positive energy always made him smile. He hoped Aphra felt the same, but the word around the crew left the youth hollow with disappointment.
The autumn soul believed in renewal -- in the silver lining and the best in others. As far as he heard no one believed in the best of Aphra. Aside of course, her children, though that flew as an unfortunately blaring red flag to him.
When he spotted one of those aforementioned children, sans mother, the wildcat felt a twinge of relief, although it came with guilt -- Salem didn't want to believe anyone was simply horrible, regardless of the popular opinion. The vines that curled around his legs tightened, uneasy against the turmoil of negative thoughts.
Soft, his shadowy paws stepped over the sand, dark eyes equally gentle -- curious, albeit quiet. "Vayne?" The name felt right, although he hardly knew for sure; unacquainted with any of Aphra's children personally. "Are you collecting seashells? Want any help?"
Thoughts of not one, but two, bright sisters flashed in his mind -- happy voices clamoring over the sound of ocean waves. A pang of longing pierced his heart, though he found respite in the thought of a pass time that would've made them smile; wherever they ran off to.
"I'm Salem, by the way," he murmured, smile more absent and wistful than before. "And two sets of paws and eyes are better than one, yeah?"
The autumn soul believed in renewal -- in the silver lining and the best in others. As far as he heard no one believed in the best of Aphra. Aside of course, her children, though that flew as an unfortunately blaring red flag to him.
When he spotted one of those aforementioned children, sans mother, the wildcat felt a twinge of relief, although it came with guilt -- Salem didn't want to believe anyone was simply horrible, regardless of the popular opinion. The vines that curled around his legs tightened, uneasy against the turmoil of negative thoughts.
Soft, his shadowy paws stepped over the sand, dark eyes equally gentle -- curious, albeit quiet. "Vayne?" The name felt right, although he hardly knew for sure; unacquainted with any of Aphra's children personally. "Are you collecting seashells? Want any help?"
Thoughts of not one, but two, bright sisters flashed in his mind -- happy voices clamoring over the sound of ocean waves. A pang of longing pierced his heart, though he found respite in the thought of a pass time that would've made them smile; wherever they ran off to.
"I'm Salem, by the way," he murmured, smile more absent and wistful than before. "And two sets of paws and eyes are better than one, yeah?"