[WP11] (Rolling Mist, Deep Ruin, Grinning Moon)

[Kinu]

WP:11 Nightmares

In this prompt, you will be exploring what your kin fears and hatreds. To participate, roll a 1d10 and respond to the prompt corresponding to your roll. You may explore as many of these prompts as you like, or you can respond to just one.

1. What your kin fears most in others
   
2. What your kin fears most in themselves
   
3. What makes your kin lash out
   
4. What your kin hates most in the world
   
5. What your kin hates about themselves
   
6. One of the worst nightmare your kin has ever had
   
7. Something that was said to your kin that hurt them
   
8. Something that your kin said to hurt someone else
   
9. Your kin’s darkest secret
   
10. One of the scariest things your kin has faced

 

[Kinu]

gaia_nitemareleft Rolling for prompt. gaia_nitemareright

 

[Kinu]

gaia_nitemareleft What your kin fears most in others.. gaia_nitemareright

Rejection. The word tasted bitter on his tongue and yet he knew the taste so very well. It was like a poison that you were forced to imbibe and while you knew how much it would hurt you there was no way to avoid it. He'd seen it on a hundred different faces, heard it in a hundred sighs, and felt it in a hundred cold shoulders. And yet it never got any easier to swallow down, it never tasted any less bitter as time went on, and it never seemed to vanish completely. The sting of being unwanted. Unloved. Unseen. He was a ghost among kin. At least sometimes he believed himself to be a spirit and how it caused his heart to ache. The pain was ever present, like an itch you just couldn't seem to scratch or a wound that just wouldn't heal. In any other kin it would have festered caustically, grown sore and infected or turned their hearts bitter and stony and yet his heart felt only kindness, it poured forth only love for the world and for those who called the swamp their home, no matter where they hailed from. He knew what it was to be the butt of a joke. To be the one left out. To be left. Therefore he made it his personal mission never to cause such pain in another and instead to bring a little light and love into their lives should he be fortunate enough that they would allow him the opportunity. Being mute was never easy and most kin saw it as a flaw, he had been born without this most basic of abilities. He'd never know the joy of singing, or be able to tell someone he loved them in words. His inability to speak was the reason he was still without a mate. No doe in her right mind wanted a male with such a glaring defect. Maybe it was the fear that their children would share it, or be susceptible to something far worse. He couldn't be certain but he wouldn't doubt it to be true. Honestly, as much as he wanted young of his own he was terrified they would share his fate and seeing his own flesh and blood suffer as he did was too much for him to bare. He couldn't possibly allow them to struggle to make friends and maybe someday a mate of their own, though he would love them dearly he knew they would need more and that they deserved far better. Despite his fear that all kin would reject him once they knew he was lacking, he never gave up his hope of making friends. Of belonging. To be rejected was a risk worth taking in the pursuit of finding kin who would accept him for who he was and take him in as one of their own. He knew they were out there, waiting for him, he had met kind kin in his time he just had yet to find those who would stay. Who wouldn't leave. And this thought alone fueled him in his pursuit. He feared rejection deeply, with every fiber of his being.

 

[Kinu]

gaia_nitemareleft Rolling for prompt. gaia_nitemareright

 

[Kinu]

gaia_nitemareleft One of the scariest things your kin has faced.. gaia_nitemareright

He stood on the edge of the bank and stared off into the dark water. His veins ran cold, his heart seeming to stop within his chest. Terror was the company he kept tonight. And it was a ferocious companion indeed. Deep Ruin stomped his hooves on the ground in frustration, exhaling a ghostly plume of breathe through his nostrils and narrowing his eyes. The other shore beckoned to him, called out that he reach it. Like a golden beacon in the darkest night. Promising safety, reward, and immortality to all who wandered in this raven night. The longer he stared, the further away the ground on the other side seemed to lie, the black waters stretching and reaching, daring him to cross. And with a deep inhale, and not a little hesitation, he did. One hoof sank into the icy waters and sent a shiver up his leg and shooting down his spine. He instantly felt fear grip him, an alien sensation. He feared nothing. 'Come..' the swamp seemed to whisper. 'Face your fears.' And he complied. Leaving land completely he felt the cold water rush all around him, engulfing his limbs up to the knee and slowly climbing the more he moved until he was submerged up to the shoulders. The further he walked, the deeper he traveled, the thicker the water became until he could hardly pull his body forward against the pressure which suffocated him on all sides. That was when he spotted them. The eyes. Mistaking them for fireflies at first, or lying to himself subconsciously, he suddenly realized they were not so innocent. The eyes were golden in the inky darkness, narrowed and menacing. They watched, first one pair, then another, then another until he was surrounded by hundreds, if not thousands, of eyes in the darkness. They didn't move. Instead they floated, waiting, like predators about to pounce. He felt himself frozen and unable to move, that sense of fear seizing him and holding him firmly where he stood. That was when he felt it. Felt the ground shift beneath him and was overcome with the knowledge that he would go no further. The swamp was swallowing him down, he felt his hooves beginning to sink as the eyes began to draw closer. He would be consumed. Instinct told him to run, to kick, to bite and flee at all costs and yet he could not will himself to move. His body no longer obeyed him. As the eyes drew closer and the swamp slowly devoured him he knew his death was nigh and that he would never reach the other side.

With a start he woke. The rain pelting down upon the earth and soaking the grass outside the protection of tree he'd chosen to rest beneath for the night. Every bit of his fur was on end and his body shivered involuntarily. A dream.. he shook his head. Trying to free himself of the fear which still clung forcefully to him. It was only a dream.  

[Kinu]

gaia_nitemareleft Rolling for prompt. gaia_nitemareright

 

[Kinu]

gaia_nitemareleft What your kin hates about themselves.. gaia_nitemareright

Grinning Moon was smart, too smart. In fact he was a genius among kin and he knew this fact very well. He prided himself on it to be specific. It was what made him better than other kin, what made his worth higher among the sea of common Kimeti whom he considered to be more bothersome than they were worth. His patience was a thin veil for those he considered to posses lower intellect and he refused to be bothered with idle chatter. There was absolutely nothing worse than a small mind. His skills, though vast, were specific and covered a ranged of topics. Everything from local plant life, to wildlife, to weather, language, lore and legend and even the skies above. He could chart the heavens with simply a glance and know his place within the swamp by the position of the Motherfathers fleas, even in the deepest reaches and in all seasons or by the shadows cast by the sun. His mind was sharp and keen, filled with knowledge many could simply wish for but never hope to fathom. He had traveled far beyond the furthest reaches of the swamp, deeper than many dared into the swamps heart and had seen beasts and plants too strange to recount. And though he considered love an unnecessary expense upon his time and studies he was not terrible to look at by any means. His limbs were strong, well formed, he was as healthy as a Kimeti could possibly be and his heritage quite respectable with a long lineage, and yet he was imperfect. Just the notion propelled him into a state of exceptional unease. This understanding of his own fault, his own lacking, chewed at him from within like a ravenous caiman upon the carcass of dead beast. He felt it there. Heard its whisper. 'There is still so much you do not know.' Taunting him mercilessly. This lack of knowing, of not having all of the answers ready and at his disposal, drove him to rage some nights. A cold, stormy rage he could not seem to control. Nor did he try very hard to contain it. As undignified as it might be he could not let it well up or it would be his ultimate ruin. His hunger to posses the answers to every question forever singing to him like a siren upon the seas. Haunting his dreams and pushing him to fill that void within his heart. He couldn't remember the times he had vowed, over and over again, that he would have every answer, that the swamp would open itself up to him and pour its secrets into his soul. He would one day stand before the Motherfather and his worth would be tested. He would not disappoint. This knowledge that one day he would have all the answers he sought, that he would indeed know all there was to know, was what drove him to perfect himself, to study and search with every fiber of his being until there was nothing left to discover. And in that moment he would be perfect.