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Their hearts thumped, and thumped, and thumped, and thumped, and thumped, and thumped like drums to the beats of warfare and bells of hellfire.
"Mon, where the fuck is it?"
"Or he."
"Eh,ya, where the fuck is he?"
"Fucking bastard is pissing me off."
A lone pair of spiritual saber tooth tigers, otherwise known as smilodons, laid in wait until twilight, using the patches of light and dark to hide themselves in the dusty vegetational fields. This plane of theirs was endless in time and space, adding to the long magnitude of anxiety and persistence in craving for one specific prey.
A prey that was very much the predator. The prime threat that continued to haunt them like no other.
"How long must he keep us waiting?"
"Who does he think he is?"
Deep growls of impatience rumbled through the ground, enough for tremors to be felt.
"We haven't sensed anything from him since that day."
"Nothing at all."
"For years we've been, waiting, training and building our defenses, with all the Petorians."
"For years we've managed to move away from what happened."
A moving silence like rolling tumbleweeds.
"Move away?"
"Ewe, move away."
"Gene... have we really moved away?"
"What do you mean? Of course we have."
"No... I mean, not with location, but—"
"Neo — don't."
The dust clouds that concealed their presence became more like a dense fog that circulated viciously at extremely cold and hot temperatures.
"Don't what? Think about it? Well sorry to break your bubble but it's all I can ever think about. It's all I'm thinking about right now!"
The fog soon turned into dry and hot humid winds that made the air congested with agitation and distress.
"No, I meant, don't fucking say it. Because you know more than anyone how I've done nothing but think about it. All the time. I just hate saying and showing it when there's nothing we can do about it."
A moment of silence filled a million thoughts that were shared between brother and sister. Twilight turned into the night sky that had no clouds, nor any twinkling stars. All that could be seen was a region of the atmosphere filled with nothing but black emptiness, with no aspirations or solutions of any kind. The purest form of nothing.
A soft whine of guilt was produced from the female smilodon. Her fur was red and her stripes were white. She made her way to nuzzle her head against the young male in a sign of apology. "Askies." She apologized.
The male smilodon with blue fur and black stripes let out a deep whine of his own, nuzzling his head back. "No no, I'm sorry too. It's just, you know. Sometimes I keep wondering if we've really managed to move on from everything instead of just moving away."
"That doesn't really matter now does it? There's nothing we can do except focus on what happens now with what happened then. The past is the past that we've left behind."
YOU ARE READING
Finding Contentus
FantasyWhat does it mean to Find Content? This is the question that Genesia, for "New Beginnings" and Neosa, for "One Sanctuary", seek to answer. As identical twins, and as survivors of their gifted race of supernatural humans known as Racaans. In one da...
