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Date Posted: 21:58:30 08/15/02 Thu
Author: Akartis
Subject: My mentor's lost it.... oooooh boy...
In reply to: Esaki 's message, "*Blink* Twitching Canis... Iiiiiiinnnnttteeerrrresssstttiiinnnggg...." on 23:42:28 08/14/02 Wed

The poke should've drawn no concern from the tan, but at a slight scraping sound, barely audible even to his hearing, he looks at his flank. Only now does he notice how thin and rather unhealthy his fur is, and how little flesh lies between hide and rib-wall. Akartis cocks his head, staring at his own flank, before he shivers slightly at a cool breeze wafting from the direction of the lake. Brushing away a flood of memories that the smell of cold water brings, the young adult looks back up at Esaki. "Not mine. My mother's." His pale eyes harden slightly. "We're at war. Again." Involuntarily, random and vivid scenes from the last war flashes in his head. Steam Will Rise, that accursed Muaru, taunting him until he fought beside his people. That Terolian, attacking him. Hundreds of Vofayes, coming to their rescue... barely winning. The pain and heat after the battle was done, the stench of steamy blood and spilled guts. How exhausted he had been -tans are not made to endure war- and how hard it had been to even tap the ancient Kusani that was his by right of birth. How impossible it had been to control... it ripped through him like a tornado, leaving nothing but a shell with a fading soul. He'd gone to the desert to die... was saved... then Caleway... Abruptly the Korat springs upright and bounds several meters away from both his mentor and the stranger, bucking and snarling as though fighting off ghosts. After a moment of this insanity, the tan calms, breathing hard and head hung low, legs splayed to brace his shivering body up, tail dangling and pooling on the floor of the Den.

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