on strong shoulders . august + esra . blitz
Jan 9, 2021 12:32:29 GMT -5
Post by pogue on Jan 9, 2021 12:32:29 GMT -5
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A U G U S T
It's the first Thursday of the month, which means it's the day of a hunt.
Butterflies in the stomach and the weight of a burden on shoulders that never felt strong enough, staring into the forest with the eyes of a snake and feeling the forest stare back, that's what he's come to expect from hunt days. The simulations had become more and more elaborate as they grew into the roles their parents set for them, charting complex paths through the forest and setting traps based off what their parents had encountered in their respective times hunting Wanderers. He'd grown used to the price of success and the price of failure itself, after all he had always been forced to weigh the two constantly. When he looks at Esra, though, he can tell his little Brother hasn't quite reached that point yet, fog still present in his eyes when they discuss things like this.
Dad always said that a foggy mind led to mistakes. When he hears Esra yelp and turns to find his little brother's foot caught in a spike trap he knows their hunt is over.
It's three hours later and their parents are dissecting the both of their performances, marks of failure and every mistake each of them made put up on the wall for them to gawk and stare at. His eyes are down, counting the number of spots in the wooden floors as his Dad begins laying into Esra, a verbal lashing they've been told is fit as the price of failure. He bites his tongue and holds silence in his bones like his life depends on it. After all, he's been on the receiving end of their disappointment before. Just hang in there, E, just bite your tongue. He thinks, begs.
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