Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-28439145-20170829045226/@comment-27070860-20170907195237

(I’m still here, sorry for my lack of posts. I'm a bit busy right now)

Ever since the start of the games, Tick stayed close to their own ‘little heaven’. The goat was lucky enough to have bumped into a tree they recognized from the stories people would use to tell in the old cavern. It was a Bescolii tree- a large round tree, almost resembling a bush, yet it was hollow inside. The entrance inside was blocked its branches, mostly invisible.

Ever since then, the animal would sit there for the most of their day, listening for anything dangerous outside.

They were well aware of the dangers that could meet them within the tree- if there was any poisoned smoke, they’d be trapped. If the tree became infected, well, let’s say they have no plan B for any of those scenarios.

Up until now, not much happened. Seeing as they had the luck to have been born a goat, they’d just eat the leaves of trees the animal was sure were safe, and the dried-up grass. The landscape around them seamed to resemble a savanna more than the jungle they’d usually hear in stories.

Of course, this was all troubling to do, seeing as there was hardly any water- or maybe, there was water, just not ‘good’ water. They won’t be so dumb to go to a river after all the stories they’d heard of poisoned lakes and dangerous water creatures. Instead, the goat managed to satisfy their need for water by drinking the disgusting tree-sap she saw a squirrel drink (Tick wasn’t even sure if you could call it a squirrel, but there wasn’t any other way to describe it).

Up until now, everything was going calmly, until-

“Give you your damn supplies” something brushed againced the back of Tick’s neck, clearly a blade. Not making a single move, they raised an eyebrow (even though the enemy couldn’t see their face) and smiled lightly.

“I haven’t got any”

“Then how the hell did you survive so far? Don’t think I believe the words that spill from your lips” the enemy growled out, as the goat took in a deep breath, before releasing it. With their hoof, they turned around and smacked the back of the blade, making it fall from the other’s grasp.

“The hell did you do that for?!” the other growled out, and now Tick could see who it was; a blue tiger, a black robe decorating its silhouette. They were clearly tired, probably just came back from a fight. The silver blade lay a few feet away from the two.

The tiger pounced on the goat, their claws aiming for the creature’s neck, making the two of them fall over. As they tumbled to the ground, Tick managed to angle their back feet at the other, kicking them off.

The tiger stumbled backwards, hissing in pain. Tick stood up quickly, watching as the tiger reached for the sword.

Don’t be like them. Don’t be like them. You made a promise, idiot, don’t be like them-

The goat jumped towards the sword, kicking it farther away, somewhere into the bushes. The tiger met the goat’s gaze with a glare of its own.

“Leave”

“Why don’t you stand and fight? Aren’t you a coward! Do you not care to see your family again?” the cat growled, narrowing their eyes, their teeth on full display. The goat’s face remained neutral.

“I made a promise- I won’t be like them”

“Made a promise to your family? To a friend? That doesn’t matter! You’re here for life or death- why aren’t you fighting me?” the tiger refused to move, barring their claws while aiming a dangerous glare at the goat.

“If you don’t come out of here alive, there’d be no-one to be proud of you! If you’re dead, who’s going to praise you for keeping your promise? Wouldn’t you rather live and see the delighted faces of your relatives?” the goat stood for a while, listening to the cat’s ragged breathing. Tick shouldn’t want to win, they shouldn’t believe that there’d be something great if they win. Would it really be better to stay alive? Be dead, or face all the hateful glares, face the consequences of having blood on your hoofs? The goat had no intention of turning into someone their father wanted them to be. They wouldn’t turn into the heartless, mindless machine all their siblings decided to be, won’t spill blood for useless matters.

“Leave”

And, the already tired, broken tiger left. The goat was left alone once more, with the addition of a sharp sword they’d certainly find some use for.