#catsofimperium
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The Dead End Doctor: Student and Teacher
Content Warnings: Severe Injuries, Uncertain Survival
Matthias rolled from one side to the other, looking to the door of his shack with groggy annoyance. He had been awoken by a familiar sound, and one that often disturbed his slumber. He groaned, heaving himself out of his modest bed. Another knock, and louder this time, and he looked at the still-sleeping Stell on his medical bed, breathing steadily now and no longer whimpering.
Memory flashed through his mind, glimpses of the night before. Sitting up with the kit, taking notes, waiting for them to calm and for their fever to break before he got any rest of his own. He also remembered the sunlight pouring in through the window as he readied himself for bed, Matthias having pulled the curtains shut to keep the light from disturbing the shack's inhabitants.
Seeing the kit sleeping soundly, Matthias couldn't help but smile softly, grateful the young one was no longer in pain. Another knock pulled him from his thoughts, and his smile faded to the thin line of neutrality. He padded over to the door, unlocking it and opening it to the sight of a young Weather, slightly younger than the Stell laying in the cot behind Matthias.
They were clad in a harness bearing two pouches on either side, heavy with whatever contents were in them. Their pale white fur was in stark contrast to Matthias' own midnight blue, the ends jagged and charged with a subtle orange energy, crackling around them. Their ears and the fur of their tail matched the color of the sparks traveling through their fur, and their eyes were a brilliant yellow, and locked onto Matthias instantly with laser focus.
"Hello, Gr-" The Lucern was interrupted as the Weather rushed past him, making a beeline for the metal rod hooked to a thick braid of copper leading into the ground. The Weather wasted no time in pouring every last ounce of charge they could muster into the rod, the lights in Matthias' home growing brighter for the duration.
He simply waited, watching the girl exhaust her charge. As she let go of the lightning rod, she turned to Matthias with a big grin, rushing back over to him. It always astounded the old cat just how much energy she had, even for a Weather. "Matty, Matty, guess what I did today!!!"
Matthias raised his eyebrows, shutting the door as he stepped past her and approached the Stell on the cot, preparing to change his bandages. "What might that be, Miss Grace? Did you perhaps remember to bring my salt shipment from the apothecary?"
Grace grinned, nodding as she turned in circles, trying to reach one of the pouches before slumping to the floor, dizzy. She giggled, standing up and using her tail to push the flap of one of the pouches up, revealing a sealed tub of salt. "Got it right here, Mister Matty!"
Matthias gave her a grateful nod, padding over to take the salt from her pouch, placing it on his ingredient table before returning to his patient, setting to work changing their bandages. "So, you said that you did something today. I assume bringing my salt was not the exceptionally exciting thing you wished to tell me?"
Grace grinned from ear to ear, darting over to watch Matthias carefully, eyes moving rapidly, scanning every detail of what he was doing. She did this often, studying his motions, knowing how practiced they were and keen on replicating them when she inevitably helped in his efforts.
"I came across this kit, Weather like me, and he had this rash on his whoooole left side, and it turns out he was playing with some friends, and they got a little carried away, and he-" Grace was silenced by Matthias putting a paw to her muzzle gently.
"Breath, Miss Grace, is important. I appreciate your excitement as much as I appreciate you being here, but it will do neither of us any good if you fall unconscious from lack of breath, would it?"
He returned his paw to the bandages, carefully removing the layers of cloth from the sleeping Stell. Grace buzzed a little, his off-handed compliment not going unnoticed by the hyperactive Weather cat. She ran over to the lightning rod, letting out a bit of her charge and brightening the lights as she did, before stepping back to the cot.
"Okay, Okay, you're right Matty. So, this kit, playing, got carried away with his friends, yeah? And he winds up falling into, ready for it? A fireberry bush! The entire left side of his body was covered in irritations and rash spots from the stuff!"
Matthias' eyes widened a little. While fireberry was little more than an irritant with proper treatment, if left alone it could develop into boils, and be incredibly painful. It was rarely severe, and never fatal, but he had seen first-hand how drastically it could impact one's quality of life while under the effect.
"I assume you treated him, then? Did you follow the process I taught you, and make sure to keep him comfortable and aware of every step?" He asked, tossing the old bandages from the sleeping kit into the medical waste bin before setting about examining the wounds.
"I did!" Grace yipped excitedly, fur beginning to spark again. "He was so scared at first! But he relaxed, and let me look him over. It was pretty bad, he even had it in some pretty unpleasant places. But we got it sorted!" She grinned, pride radiating from her in small bolts and sparks popping off from her spiky fur.
Matthias raised an eyebrow, glancing at her before returning his gaze to the injuries he was tending to. They were strange, the irritation was gone but he couldn't see any sign of healing whatsoever, and while it was expected the signs would be minimal, there should be some indication. And yet the wound was as fresh as when he had found them.
"Miss Grace, I do wish to hear more of your escapades with the rash, but I need another set of eyes on this injury. Yours are admittedly sharper than my own, and I trust you've been studying the journals I've sent home with you. Does anything about this wound stand out to you?"
He stepped back, letting Grace approach. Her excitement dissipated, and her ears folded back. Matthias smiled, watching her straighten up, her relaxed posture shifting to one of extreme focus. This was his favorite part of teaching her. She took everything as sincerely as could be, and while she had an energy and an unprofessional air almost all of the time, she was uncharacteristically silent and serious when she needed to focus.
After a few minutes, she stepped back and nodded for Matthias to come back over, her trademark smile returning as quickly as it had faded. The Lucern did as he was instructed, looking carefully at the injury on the Stell's side as Grace explained her findings.
"I'm guessing it was Death Drakes? The laceration patterns indicate serrated claws, which aren't unique to them, but the irritant burns imply some sort of toxin or venom, which together make me think Drakes because, y'know, of all the things we know of in the forest there's only like three that have serrated claws AND toxins, and the other two things would have eaten him outright instead of trying to hurt him first given his size, relative to theirs."
Matthias was impressed, she'd certainly been paying attention. He nodded, gesturing to the injuries that concerned him most, specifically the large gash across the kit's side. The gash that, as far as he could tell, was not healing in the slightest.
"This injury bothers me. I treated it to the best of my ability, they've been here since early last night, and yet it's not healed in the slightest. There's still bleeding, and there's no scar tissue or even the slightest indication of tissue repair at all. Not even the discoloration that comes with the healing process."
Grace headed to the basin, washing her paws carefully as Matthias watched her. When she was done, she headed to the other side of the cot, leaning over to look at the gash once again. A few moments of inspecting it, and her eyes widened a little. She reached a paw towards it, extending a claw and, to Matthias' confusion, pressing it against the gash and dragging the blunt top of her claw along the length of it.
The kit winced, letting out a mewl of pain. Matthias was about to question Grace until she lifted her paw away, a clear and viscous liquid connecting her claw to the gash. She leaned in, sniffing the fluid before making a disgusted face. "Oh, Oh goddess...This is...Ugh, Matty you might want to..."
Matthias looked warily from Grace's expression to the strand of liquid connecting her claw to the wound. He leaned in and recoiled almost the instant he inhaled. It was putrid, like sulfur and bile in the most unholy combination. He gagged, wretching a little as he stepped away.
Grace shook her claw, severing the strand of gooey liquid and making her way to the basin to wash her paws again, rinsing them clean of the strange fluid. She returned to the patient, sitting beside the cot in silence. Matthias was about to speak, when Grace suddenly piped up.
"What did you treat him with? Antivenom would have been enough to stop their secretions from killing him, but it wouldn't have done anything for the wounds themselves. What else did you use? You didn't use Malenthide Extract, did you?"
The Weather looked at him in concern, and Matthias turned to his table, grabbing his journal and flipping through to last night's notes. Sure enough, Malenthide Extract had been one of the ingredients he'd used in his new concoction. It had properties that supported the healing process, but as he scoured his notes he made a realization.
"It would seem in my desperation to ensure this kit's survival, I used not only Malenthide, but Heartroot and Shale Flower as well." He cursed himself silently. He knew better, the first two not only counteracted each other, but the Shale Flower had been included as a base to allow for easy transmission through the blood, an anti-coagulant and a lubricant agent.
"Matty, we need to get a coagulant going now. That mixture's not going to do anything except quicken the blood flow. I'm sure it helped spread the antivenom, but beyond that all it's done is stop his wounds from clotting, no wonder he's not healing!"
Matthias slumped, sitting. He knew Grace knew her way around his ingredients as well as he did, and that she would have the coagulant mixed faster than he could. He had a moment to process his mistake. He thought back, the desperation of the night having clouded his thoughts and nearly costing this kit his life. No wonder he was so calm. He had lost so much blood through the night that he was too weak to be struggling.
Grace dashed from place to place, from the table to the chemistry equipment by the basin, and as she worked to mix the coagulant, Matthias stood, leaving the shack and facing the unforgiving brightness of the daylight. He sat, tail curling around and up in front of him, between his front paws.
Closing his eyes, he thought, mapping out the stars he was so familiar with. He turned to face what he expected was the direction of the moon, unable to see it due to the overwhelming brightness of the blue sky above. He bowed his head, closing his eyes again as he began his prayer.
"Benevolent Moon, Mother of Night, Patron of the Children of Shadows, I call on your aid. I have erred, a mistake I fear I cannot make right. I am aware of our history, and the lack of faith I've shown you. But you have offered your kindness before, and I ask that you do so yet again. There is a Stell kit, weak and dying, in my home. They are young, and still have many years to experience in this world. I beg of you, aid them. Give them the strength to pull through. Take what you must from me, but please, do not take them."
He opened his eyes, fighting the tears welling up in them. He rarely made mistakes this grievous. As he stood, returning into his shack, he saw Grace already administering the coagulant. He knew he could count on her. She was as clever as he was, and twice as observant. He approached the kit and, as the Lucern and his Weather apprentice shared a look of concern, the pair set to work bandaging his wounds again.
Grace's ears folded back as she stepped back, sitting beside the foot of the cot and watching the Stell's side rise and fall with each breath. They were steady, slow, weak. The Weather suddenly felt a blanket being laid over her, and she looked back to the Lucern wrapping it around her.
"Thanks, Matty...Do you think he's going to be okay?" She asked, looking back at the Stell. The constellations of his body were dim, faded, but still shining with the light of life. His body radiated the trademark light of his kind, dull though it was.
"I think that, if my mistake was not discovered too late, and if he gets the right help, he'll be fine. But I need to prepare you for the alternative...He very well may die, Miss Grace. It is an unfortunate reality of this line of work. You cannot save them all."
Grace looked at Matthias with wide eyes, her mouth slightly agape. It was a reality she hadn't had to face yet, with Matthias often handling the more serious cases himself. The idea that her first severe case would end in the loss of the person she was treating was a possibility she didn't want to face. Didn't want to acknowledge.
Matthias looked down at the young Weather, tears filling her eyes. His expression softened, and he leaned down, butting heads with her gently before looking into her eyes, determination filling his own as he carefully chose his next words.
"We cannot save them all. But that does not mean we aren't going to do absolutely everything in our power to try. We are doctors. It is our duty of care."
Tag List
Tagging these folks cause they seem to like my work! If you would like to be added (or removed), just let me know!
@intothesparrowverse @moremysteriesthantragedies @thetruearchmagos @snakelovingnerd @a-scaly-troublemaker @the-chaotic-writer
Credits
Credit to @catsofimperium for the world and concepts used in this story! Go check them out, they've got an awesome open-source world available for all to enjoy!
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The Children of The Nowhere
The Radius Glade sunk down beneath the tall cat’s gaze, black and stone blue wings ruffling. There was white sunlight making up the feathers of his wings, the fur on his chest, and the edges of his ears, having gone so far down said edges ruffled against his cheeks.
A Beloved with the traits of a Crystalor stood in front of him, maintaining her stature despite whom she was defending against. The purple glow of the gemstones along her silver coat struggled to combat the light of the goddess herself. They stood on the reflective, smooth stone of the palace, pressed up against a window with the drapes shut closed.
"I'm disappointed in you," the goddess said, turning to The Beloved, "harboring such a creature within my realm, and lying to me about it? What were you thinking?"
The cat peered over at the figure behind her, blinking. He didn't look any different from any other Radius and Glade mix, and he certainly didn't have enough variations to be considered a creature.
"I simply didn't want anyone to hurt him, or for him to accidentally hurt anyone else. I must confess, I don't understand. He can't harm anyone in the unused parts of the castle."
The goddess put a wing around The Beloved, pulling her away from the cowering cat. It was made entirely out of light, the Beloved feeling very little against her fur.
"Those parts of the castle were unused for a reason. No one should be permitted there, especially not such a creature," The Beloved tilted her head and The Goddess sighed, "I admire your kindness but it has been misplaced. In all your studying you should have learned the danger of magical mimicry and those infected by its snare."
"That may be true, but, if he was born this way, then how is it his fault?"
The goddess lifted her head more, ears jutting up.
"It is not, but this does not change the facts of the matter. We live in a world full of magic, but, just like a plant may create bad seeds, magic is the same. Especially within a cat the gift was not meant for, having nothing to sink its roots into and grow."
"Like a ghost," the Glade whispered, having collapsed onto the floor.
The goddess nodded, running a paw through the drapes to rest them along the Glade's back.
"Precisely."
The Beloved's head cocked more, eyes exploring the yellow colored air in thought. The ground reflected he goddess' light, only making it that much stronger.
"Shouldn't we study them so this won't happen again? Maybe there's a cure or-"
She was cut off, the goddess pulling away to step closer to the Glade.
"There is no cure. But I assure you, no one will be hurting Exspir. I know a place where he will be safe alongside others like him. It is peaceful there," the goddess said, putting her tail on Diana's shoulder, "Trust me, the rest of your friend's life will be comfortable, even with the infection."
Diana looked between those bright eyes and the Glade's, the latter's head giving a resigned nod. Her eyes sharpened, and she squared her shoulders.
"Fine. But, only if I can go with him," she said, head turning back to the goddess.
She pulled away, returning to her space in front of Exspir. The goddess stared for a good moment before taking several steps back and allowing the Crystalor's purple light to glow freely.
"If that is your wish, I will not fight you. But, I will miss you, Diana."
Before Diana could so much as utter another word, the goddess' eyes glowed. Diana's wings and horns did the same, a sudden jolt of pain rushing through her body. She screamed out, falling to the floor as it overcame all her other senses.
"Diana!" Exspir's voice rang in her ears.
The last thing Diana saw before her vision was completely overtaken by the light was the chipping of her horn as she attempted to push back against the blast. Her vision went white within seconds, and she could not hear so much as a sound. This included sound of her own gasp as she let out one final breath before numbness overcame here.
She was unsure how long she had remained in that state. When Diana woke up again, she was half convinced that she was dead. She had fallen upon some unknown sin, and the only thing to be done was to erase the source of it in its entirety.
But, then there was the feel of wind against Diana's fur. It wasn't a strong feeling, easily missed with its light touch. Yet, the sensation grew stronger as Diana flopped blearily onto her stomach, exposing her back to its unknown source. Grass crinkled beneath her and she forced open her eyes.
When her vision cleared, she was greeted by a graying sky at the top of her eyeline, and beige looking grass at the bottom. Looking back at her own body, she was relatively in one piece. The place where her wings once resided had been replaced with scarring, and the crystals all along her body had turned completely dark.
A feeling of loss overcame her, though it did not change the relief she felt at still maintaining her life, even if it brought more questions than answers. Answers she planned to seek out...once she could stand and figured out where she was exactly. Though her ears flicked back and forth, she could not catch onto any distinctions that identified where she was, only one sound being loud enough to catch her attention.
In the distance, she could hear the slow flow of water. She lifted her head, and soon, a black paw was offered to help her up. Once she was on her four paws, with the help of a wing to sturdy her, she took in the place with wide, amethyst eyes. A plain of beige could be seen for miles, with paths carved to lead to the many houses scattered along them, the architecture drastically different between each one.
She turned to the Glade beside her, for an explanation, but, he had just sighed.
"Welcome home, I guess," Exspir said with a weak smile.
Once it had sunk in, Diana gave him one back, along with a nuzzle.
"I'm glad to be here."
Tagging: @caxycreations
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Cats of Imperium
Guess what? A while back I made some writings for my open, cat fantasy world here on Tumblr, the details can be found on the blog @catsofimperium. Well, now these writings, at least for the main cast, are up on AO3, woo! This includes an AO3 exclusive, Training Grounds:
Want to know something else? I've given it its own fandom tag on Ao3 (Cats of Imperium), so those who want to write in this world can gather it all under the fandom! Happy reading/writing.
Tag list: @caxycreations, @perasperaadastrawriting, @profoundlyhauntedclaws (ask to be added to the general taglist)
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Started sketching my boy Matthias, the Dead End Doctor.
Made him for the world of Cats of Imperium (found @catsofimperium) and haven't touched him much in a while. Really wanna get back into writing him soon ^-^
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The Dead End Doctor
TW: Mentions of Death and Violence, Uncertain Survival
Matthias sighed, walking slowly through the darkness of The Dead End. Light cascaded from the lamp above him, held in place by his harness, which he wore over his duster. Scratches and scrapes lined the thick, heavy cloth of the duster from all manner of trips into the Dead End.
He stopped short, wincing as he lifted a paw. He'd stepped on a thorn, dark and obvious against the gentle glow of his paw pads. He pinched the thorn between his teeth, pulling it from the pad and spitting it to the side. There were worse things that could happen here than stepping on a thorn, and every second he wasn't on the move was one more second things could go wrong.
He began walking, the rope tied to his harness growing taut. He glanced back, making sure the small sled behind him wasn't stuck on anything. A young Maltese Stell lay on the sled. They couldn't have been more than fifteen, judging by the look of them. They lay there weakly, rough bandages wrapped around one leg and more around their midsection.
He carried on, pulling the sled towards his home, just outside of the forest at the edge of The Dead End. His thoughts drifted to the state he'd found the Stell in. He needed to think it through. He had all manner of antidotes, antitoxins, and medicinal mixtures at his shack, but they were useless if he didn't know what was afflicting the kit.
The wounds hadn't been severe, or he hadn't thought they were. The leg wasn't broken, but he'd noticed the pain on the unconscious kit's face when he'd examined it. And the wound on their side was not deep, it was no worse than a Wyverling could do. Nasty little reptiles, Wyverlings. But not particularly deadly. Pests, at best.
And yet the kit was burning with fever, and the wound was clearly irritated by something beyond the cold night air. Their breath was ragged, and the soft whimpers he could hear behind him were enough to tell him that they were in pain despite his first aid efforts. He quickened his pace, the subtle sounds around them both small enough to be nothing, and close enough to be concerning.
He could see the edge of the forest, and as much as he would like to be gentle, to carefully pull the kit from the trees, he could hear those subtle sounds becoming more frantic. Closer. Louder. Faster. Matthias began to run. The kit began to whine behind him. The noises grew closer. With eyes locked on the tree line, he bolted forward.
He heard the noises stop almost immediately. He pulled the sled a good fifty feet or so from the trees, not wanting to risk an attack when he slowed down. Coming to a stop, he turned back. Seven sets of eyes peered out from the trees, bright and shining against the blackness of night. His own eyes, naturally accustomed to the dark, could make out every detail of their bodies.
Heavy bodies, all muscle and sinew, scaled limbs and faces, fur creeping along the torsos, and large bat-like wings much like his own. Reptilian faces, mouths open in angry hunger. Death Drakes. One of the more dangerous beasts in the forest. Pack hunters, and source of one of the more lethal venoms he was aware of.
But he knew what he was dealing with now. He must have scared them when he arrived, the light of his lantern likely driving them back until they decided they were too hungry to let the kit go. But now they were safe, the drakes wouldn't follow past the trees. They never did. He turned away, breathing a sigh of relief and pulling the sled as quickly as he dared.
His shack wasn't far, a mere five minutes walk from the forest. Pulling the sled inside, he locked the door behind them and set about finding the right antivenom. He hadn't seen many survive an attack by death drakes. They were relentless pack hunters, until frightened at least, and most of the victims he found were barely bones by the time he arrived.
It did, however, allow him plenty of opportunity to collect samples of their venom. He found the bottle and set to work administering it to the kit, working carefully to minimize pain as much as possible. He cursed under his breath, realizing he was at a crossroads between wanting to document the symptoms as a scholar and wanting to treat them as a doctor.
He finished administering the antivenom, setting the bottle back in its place and made for his study, in truth it was only a corner of the shack with a desk and a bookshelf, to grab his notebook and an inkwell. He sat beside the kit, dipping a claw into the inkwell and beginning to write note after note, carefully documenting every last detail.
He made note of where he found the kit, how long since then, when the antivenom was given and how much time was passing. He wrote down the symptoms he could identify, and made mention of those he expected were pre-existing. He even noted the size of the kit, and how long it seemed for the antivenom to take effect.
He sat by the kits side, alternating between providing care in the form of blankets, water, and changing bandages, and taking notes on their condition. As the night passed, he cursed that he could only be in one place at a time, knowing full well there may be others in need right now. But he needed to save who he could, and this kit was the entirety of that category at the moment.
With a sigh, he sat his notebook down and made way to the water basin nearby, washing the ink from his paws. He returned to the kits side, looking over the Stell. Their constellations were as beautiful as any, but their soft glow was faded, dull. He could tell they were still feeling the effects of the venom.
He didn't know if they would survive, but he knew if they didn't, it would not be from his inaction. He looked back at his medicines, arranged on the table, working through chemicals and herbs, combinations that may help and what may make things worse.
With determination to see this kit wake tomorrow, he stood again, setting to work crafting a new mixture, something to neutralize the venom and promote the natural healing the young Stell would need. He could document the ingredients and measurements as he went, and if it took him the whole night through to save this kit, he'd do it.
After all, they didn't call him the Dead End Doctor for his apathy.
Tag List
Tagging these folks cause they seem to like my work! If you'd like to be added (or removed), just let me know!
@intothesparrowverse @moremysteriesthantragedies @a-scaly-troublemaker @that-one-enby-onyx @the-chaotic-writer @snakelovingnerd @thetruearchmagos
Also tagging @catsofimperium as they are the progenitor of the world/concepts presented in this little fic! I hope I did it justice, and that you enjoy it!
#literature#fiction#writeblr#short stories#catsofimperium#cats#tw injury#tw mentions of violence#tw mentions of death
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Noxgale's Call
When Darian opened his eyes, he was positioned at the very edge of those woods. He couldn’t remember how he got there, only that they couldn’t be mistaken for anything else, Darian’s ears going down as he took in those big, massive trees. Their bark was even darker than the night sky, making them near invisible within the moon's light.
He sat right at The Dead End's entrance, the nonexistent wind remaining stagnant on his coat. His fur stuck up, pricking against the thick atmosphere, while his wings had become cemented to his sides. Staring into the darkness, some unforeseen force or desire had Darian sticking his neck out, closing his eyes and…
…whistling.
It was a soft tune, mimicking the calls of the many moonlit birds that frequented the kingdom; Noxgales. He'd learned their calls from the day he could whistle, a mere kitten back then but, the tune had come naturally to him. It required a delicate balance, being sharp in sound yet gentle in delivery, with a melancholic sound that couldn't be mistaken for any other. That's exactly what made it so addictive to sing.
When Darian was done, he opened his eyes, staring back into the dark once more. There was a subtle wind, barely noticeable until Darian's ears shifted forward. He'd caught onto something, the sound easing its way through the trees. It was a whistle, mimicking Darian's as it increased in volume via echoing in his ears.
Darian stood, hyper focused on the set of trees in front of him that appeared to be the source of the beautiful melody. He whistled once more, trees branches bending and waving to offer him safe passage. Darian stepped forward.
Soon, the Lucern's vision was completely overcome in shadow, the white shine of his wings, paws, and eyes doing little against its vast shade. The only thing he had to guide him was their collective song. It was carried in the wind, picking up around his body and pushing his legs forward.
Darian's head waved up and down, the notes only becoming more and more intense the closer he came to the sound. He wasn't certain how long he'd been following it when all went silent and still. He looked around, wiggling his ears in an attempt to catch it once more. He began the whistle again and yet, there was no response. Only silence and the blackness ever present all around his exposed, glowing form.
However, that glow had begun to darken, Darian extending his wings to check them. The light looked the same as it always did, except, no matter how much Darian extended his wings, their shine would not reach his surroundings. Looking at the pattern along the floor, chunks of it were being taken away slowly until the darkness finally reached his paws.
Within seconds, the shadow overcame his paws, and yet, Darian pressed on. He ran as far back, or what he assumed was back, as he could until his legs had gone black, no longer able to move as the shade took hold.
Darian let out a pained groan as his body fell forward, claws scrapping against the ground to heave himself onward. Though, it didn't take too long for that to become laborious as well, the shadow clamping down on his joints. The inky magic traveled from them to the base of his body, wings, and tail.
He gritted his teeth, wings flapping helplessly as he remained grounded, meeting the same fate as his legs. Their bright light flickered before going out completely, falling to never rise again. Darian laid there like a statue, vision becoming blurred as all he could do was watch.
After taking over his body, dark tendrils slithered toward his head, forming the horn that would keep the infection within his body. It cemented itself within his flesh, rising atop his forehead with so much force his already fading vision gave out. Then, he could feel nothing.
There was no agony, no last moment of thought or desperation, only pitch black and a silence so peaceful Darian found himself relinquishing to it.
Darian awoke with a start, covered in sweat, and wings extended with the panic flowing coursing his veins. Yet, taking in the moonlight that shone down on his form, Darian folded them with a few deep breaths.
"It was just a dream," he whispered, grimacing at himself.
He lay his head back down, muscles relaxing as he could feel his tail intertwine with the tail of the Stell that slept just beside him.
Just a dream...
@caxycreations
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I don't give attention to these things as much as I should, but, anyways. I wanted new followers to know I have two open worlds you can freely write and play inside posted here on Tumblr. @catsofimperium is a dark fantasy world with different kinds of fantasy cats for you to choose and create from. @mystari-isle is more light hearted, with an animal filled village on an island and slice of life contemporary fantasy vibes all around.
If you're interested, feel free to give them a follow and ask any questions you may have! Make sure to read their pinned posts.
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