Lone my dear!
- Locked due to inactivity on Aug 4, '16 4:27pm
Thread Topic: Lone my dear!
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Moving slowly, she slipped through one of the gaping holes in the wall. Memories kept pounding on her brain; she could barely think. Sweeping her eyes over the place, she moved back, stepping outside once more without turning her body and keeping her eyes on the inside of the orphanage. She had stood right here when she had thrown the bomb, cradling it in her hand and tossing it as smoothly as she might throw a football.
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The faint smell of soot and smoke filled his nose as he crept closer to the sound. A deep rumbled through his chest as he looked around.
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Flight tensed at the small sound, whirling around. Her lips pulled back into a wary snarl.
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He moved silently and quickly. Springing out he aimed to leap on who or what was making the noise. Then he realized it was Flight and he frowned, backing away from her.
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Flight instinctively leapt back, springing into a fighting stance. She relaxed only slightly as she saw Jaxon, eying him and waiting for him to speak first, her body still tense.
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Jaxon was still in wolf form. He lowered his head slightly, his ears twitching in confusion. His tail lifted slightly and his hackles lowered.
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Flight blinked at him and then looked back at the building. She didn't realize she was shaking until she had shifted her gaze back down to the ground and saw the leaves quivering beneath her feet. "Sorry." She said in a quiet voice, moving her eyes back to his.
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Why are you here? He asked quietly. He looked around the black walls and then back to her.
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She shrugged. "I was just taking a look around. What is this place?" Flight choked the last words out, and they tasted like sand.
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Jaxon didn't go past the doorway. My home. He said quietly and then stepped in. He left paw prints in the dark soot. It was like nothing could grow here.
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Flight's hand flew to her mouth. She had destroyed his childhood home. She had destroyed his friends and the people who had raised him. She wanted to scream, to attack. Anything to push the guilt and shock aside. Timidly she followed him, her feet turning black with the soot.
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Even with the black and burnt things, he knew where they were. This is the kitchen. He said quietly and stood in front of what must have been an oven.
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Flight nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Every part of her wanted to tell him, and yet every part of her refuses Flight open her mouth. Looking around, she took in the place she had bombed too easily.
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He led her toward the main room, the front doors frame still there. On the ground, curled up perfectly was the image of a cat. We had a lot of cats to keep out the mice in the winter.
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She managed another nod, but she felt sick inside. I killed the cats too. I killed everyone. She thought, keeping her thoughts from him
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