Post by Unzumi on Jan 7, 2007 10:00:24 GMT -5
OOC: Thought I'd open up the RP grid a little more. That... and I miss Seif-baby.
He's alone now; or at least, that's what it feels like to him. His father and mother coldly murdered, his mate dead these long seasons, his children distant... perhaps even dead too, for all he knows. Ronan's demons have been still within him for some time, overpowered by grief, perhaps by self pity, or maybe both. Seif has spent this long time in the shelter of the great willow tree he was born under, the scent of its bark and the sound of the swaying branches giving what little comfort a tree can. The male has managed to drag himself away for meals, though his hunting abilities have left him little to be desired. Somehow, Seif's retained his size and bulk, Ronan's Barbary blood still running strongly through his veins... and his face and silver eyes still soft and delicate like Kieleaji. The tears have stopped for now, but the pain is still evident in his features and the lion takes great care to hide them behind the forest of his gold and fiery mane.
Seif slowly pushes himself to all fours, gradually lifting his eyes to peer through the strands of his mane up into the weeping branches above him, focusing on a small sliver of blue sky that seems to wink at him through the leaves. A great breathy sigh escapes him and he weaves his way out from among the confines of the tree to greet the daylight with little more than a steady blink. The sandy beach underneath his paws feels warm, and his weight sinks ever so slightly in the shifting grains. The last of the willow branches slides over his back and softly falls back into place, as if to say, "Come back soon," and the half-Barbary directs his paws toward Kivuli's heart.
"I..." begins Seif's once deep, resonant rumble now faded and half-hearted, "I... don't even know... who's King anymore." It's true. He doesn't. Something in his mind tells him that they probably don't know him, either, and depending on how things have progressed these past seasons they may not welcome him in the lands anymore. He's willing to take the chance, however, for Seif doesn't feel that he can yet leave the confines of the willow and the memories it treasures for him. With his shadows trailing behind him, Seif meanders his way down the beach, his ears occasionally flicking to one side or another, but his mind is elsewhere. Faces of the past come to him in waking dreams; the memories of his mother holding him in her paws underneath the willow, his father's journey into exile and their return. There is the face of Chonyota, always sad and beautiful at the same time, and the small, delicate features of his newborn girls, Tirah and Ashlin.
"Is this..." comes his sad chuff once again, his silvery eyes lifting up to peer at the hazy clouds drifting above, "...what my life has come to? The sad remembrance of things gone past, and unable to move from the place of my beginnings?"
He's alone now; or at least, that's what it feels like to him. His father and mother coldly murdered, his mate dead these long seasons, his children distant... perhaps even dead too, for all he knows. Ronan's demons have been still within him for some time, overpowered by grief, perhaps by self pity, or maybe both. Seif has spent this long time in the shelter of the great willow tree he was born under, the scent of its bark and the sound of the swaying branches giving what little comfort a tree can. The male has managed to drag himself away for meals, though his hunting abilities have left him little to be desired. Somehow, Seif's retained his size and bulk, Ronan's Barbary blood still running strongly through his veins... and his face and silver eyes still soft and delicate like Kieleaji. The tears have stopped for now, but the pain is still evident in his features and the lion takes great care to hide them behind the forest of his gold and fiery mane.
Seif slowly pushes himself to all fours, gradually lifting his eyes to peer through the strands of his mane up into the weeping branches above him, focusing on a small sliver of blue sky that seems to wink at him through the leaves. A great breathy sigh escapes him and he weaves his way out from among the confines of the tree to greet the daylight with little more than a steady blink. The sandy beach underneath his paws feels warm, and his weight sinks ever so slightly in the shifting grains. The last of the willow branches slides over his back and softly falls back into place, as if to say, "Come back soon," and the half-Barbary directs his paws toward Kivuli's heart.
"I..." begins Seif's once deep, resonant rumble now faded and half-hearted, "I... don't even know... who's King anymore." It's true. He doesn't. Something in his mind tells him that they probably don't know him, either, and depending on how things have progressed these past seasons they may not welcome him in the lands anymore. He's willing to take the chance, however, for Seif doesn't feel that he can yet leave the confines of the willow and the memories it treasures for him. With his shadows trailing behind him, Seif meanders his way down the beach, his ears occasionally flicking to one side or another, but his mind is elsewhere. Faces of the past come to him in waking dreams; the memories of his mother holding him in her paws underneath the willow, his father's journey into exile and their return. There is the face of Chonyota, always sad and beautiful at the same time, and the small, delicate features of his newborn girls, Tirah and Ashlin.
"Is this..." comes his sad chuff once again, his silvery eyes lifting up to peer at the hazy clouds drifting above, "...what my life has come to? The sad remembrance of things gone past, and unable to move from the place of my beginnings?"
