#Don't Walk Away From Me I Need You Where You Are (Vynny Tucker)

[all-my-friends-were-glorious]

[ @urias-beast || Continued From Here ]

[ Vynny ]

It was the howls that had Vynny making a little whirring sound in his throat, something that was just shy of a growl. Closing his eyes for a moment, he tipped his head up a little bit, nostrils flaring. He hadn’t always lacked the ability to smell, breathe, and speak, it was a habit. When he got nothing, he simply looked down at his chest like it betrayed him. Instead, he closed his eyes again and perked his head to the side, lifting his right ear.

When the Lycan happened upon them, he scrambled a little bit back, kicking at the snow. This one, the big one, at least looked semi-reasonable. He hadn’t ripped into him, yet. But... This new one had moved so fast and erratically that he was instantly nervous.

The stomping got his attention, and he turned to look back up at Urias with a tilt of his head, brows drawn inward. Stomping. Feet? At least Vynny was a good pantomime, and he was fairly good at understanding it, if only because he had to do it so often. 

With a gesture to his legs, he slowly moved up to his knees, and then his feet. He was pretty sure he was okay, but the sudden movement had him wobbling a little. He stumbled, one hand on his chest as he grunted, the other hand on his chest. The surgery scar hadn’t opened, but the cold aggravated it and his once-broken ribs, and made it hard for him to move around as easily sometimes.

[all-my-friends-were-glorious]

urias-beast​:

He himself drew back slightly as the man seemingly sprung to life. He waited one beat. Two. No weapon was brandished nor was any defensive posture taken. Indeed the man seemed to be…waiting.

He decided to let go of the maul, fingers slowly uncurling from around the handle. Although it really only mattered as a symbolic gesture. The damage he could do even with his bare hands could be devastating. Yet even so, until aggression was shown towards him, he was content to figure out who this stranger was.

He tilted his head slightly. It had finally occurred to him that there had been no sign of life when he’d prodded at the man’s torso. No pulse. And it had been entirely too cold. Was he still cold? He reached forward again, a finger prodding toward the man’s chest before quickly retracting. Indeed it seemed there was no life there, yet the fact that those awe-filled eyes were looking back at him was undeniable proof that he lived. But to what end? He gave a low hum that could be interpreted more like a curious growl.

When the creature seemed willing to let go of the weapon, the tense line of his shoulders relaxed and he brought his knees up to his chest. Cold. He was very cold. 

The growl caught his attention and he looked up, offering a gravelly chirp from deep within his chest. 

With his mother’s... People, he supposed, his fellow Warlords, Vynny had never felt safe. He was rather used to staring into the eyes of the beast, because if you took your eyes off of someone like Ris, or Ryder, or Mike, you might lose them. As much as he didn’t seem to be ready to fight, he maintained eye contact, his eyes only traveled the other’s face a few times to get his bearings.

The finger at his chest again had him wincing slightly, both hands moving up to feel the spot. Ever since the removal of his lungs to force him to keep his mouth shut, his ribs had been awfully sensitive. He remembered being awake for that particular surgery, immobilized while Ris sang along to a small selection of old psalms playing on the record player in the corner.

Not much scared him after that.

His shaking arms moved from behind him to curl around his legs, and he held himself close for a second. With another little chirp, he tried the best way he could to show he meant no harm. A little purr left him, something soft and tentative, hoping that that didn’t spell out imminent pain.

Being what he was, he didn’t expect even this man could kill him. Not without simply making him starve to death, anyway. Thanks to the standards of ‘breeding’ that his parents had adhered to, he was fairly well indestructible. 

Fingers twitching, he dug them into the denim covering his legs, knowing exactly what was coming. 

For @all-my-friends-were-glorious

The snowfall was light. There was enough of it upon the ground to crunch under his heavy footfalls. His pack prowled about as he kept a walking pace. A familiar scent drifted on the wind; a deer, and there was a moment of silence as they all stopped to gauge its direction. They seemed to agree all at once and then there was a great cacophony of growls and howls as they bounded eagerly after their prey.

He rolled his shoulders and prepared to join them on the hunt when, in the absence of other scents, another one caught his attention. It wasn’t of the woods. It wasn’t of usual prey. It wasn’t even of the village. No, it was something…new. And as much as he ached to hunt, his curiosity won out in the end.

Turning away from the path his pack had fled down, he followed the new scent, treading carefully. Really he just expected a wayward hunter or a weary traveler. What he wasn’t expecting was a young man laying in the snow.

Setting his maul aside, he kept one hand upon the handle as he stooped down on one knee and leaned over the figure. What a strange find. Did he even live? He reached down and gently prodded at the body.

[all-my-friends-were-glorious]

[ Vynny ]

Is it Mysterious Arm Bruise or Bruise I Know About But Forgot What Happened?

[all-my-friends-were-glorious]

The young man was clothed in a simple black coat and jeans, boots on his feet. He was used to living in the cold, but there was something about the cold in Romanian that bit down to his core. 

At first, he didn’t even move. There wasn’t a heartbeat, and his chest didn’t expand with breath. One of the pokes seemed to do the trick, though, and he his eyes scrunched up tight before he finally opened his blue eyes. For a moment, they glowed electric blue, and then he jerked up.

Not a sound left him, at first, and though his mouth was open, he didn’t seem to pull in any breath. Squinting his eyes in the light, he looked up at the gargantuan creature that had woken him, and he shrunk a little against the snow.

Well... There was a weapon, he saw that immediately. His squinting turned to wide-eyed awe as he squeaked in his throat, an odd sound that died as soon as it started. If nothing else, he was used to being surrounded by men that could, and would, kill him without a second thought.

He waited, stock still on the ground, to see if the hammer (maul?) dropped.

For @all-my-friends-were-glorious

The snowfall was light. There was enough of it upon the ground to crunch under his heavy footfalls. His pack prowled about as he kept a walking pace. A familiar scent drifted on the wind; a deer, and there was a moment of silence as they all stopped to gauge its direction. They seemed to agree all at once and then there was a great cacophony of growls and howls as they bounded eagerly after their prey.

He rolled his shoulders and prepared to join them on the hunt when, in the absence of other scents, another one caught his attention. It wasn’t of the woods. It wasn’t of usual prey. It wasn’t even of the village. No, it was something…new. And as much as he ached to hunt, his curiosity won out in the end.

Turning away from the path his pack had fled down, he followed the new scent, treading carefully. Really he just expected a wayward hunter or a weary traveler. What he wasn’t expecting was a young man laying in the snow.

Setting his maul aside, he kept one hand upon the handle as he stooped down on one knee and leaned over the figure. What a strange find. Did he even live? He reached down and gently prodded at the body.