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 Posted: Sat Jul 06, 2013 3:23 pm
The wanna-be Father figure had vanished for sometime, something in him stopped him from committing to the pride that held his beloved and the cubs he had hoped to raise himself along side Balia. He knew she held nothing against him, but yet he felt empty. The aggressive, unforgiving soul could not forgive himself. He grumbled softly to himself, making his way to the border of the pride he was thinking about.
"One day, perhaps Balia will actually leave." He said sourly to himself. She had briefly made a suggestion, or that's how he remembered it and now he wondered if he could snag any of his children, perhaps reunite with old family. He wasn't sure his other family would welcome him with open arms, but he wouldn't let them refuse. He was beginning to realize the importance of this.
It was moments after getting near the border that Angra saw a familiar form, not the one he had expected, but it was certainly a good start. His maw turned up in what was a gruff smile and he advanced on his large son, Chernabog.
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Posted: Sat Jul 06, 2013 3:53 pm
The day had started out slowly, he doing what he had done as a little boy, sat at the borders edge and waited. He waited there many times for the lion he admired, the Father he had when he was younger. Rough, gruff, but around. A figure he imagined himself as when he becomes a Father. Not that the scenario would present itself anytime soon.
Then there was a smell, a smell he recognized very well. Quickly he heaved in a deep breath, figuring it was a fantasy come true and that it would vanish as quick as it had come, but instead the air got heavier with the scent and he finally committed to turn around.
There, in his complete form including gruff grin was the Father Chern missed and admired. Though he looked older than usual and a little more frustrated.
"Hello Father."
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Posted: Fri Jul 19, 2013 8:50 pm
A flutter mocked his stomach as the words seemed to slip through his sons mouth. The greeting was one of blank expression, there was no affection, no rough reaction to seeing him, none of it mattered if Angra did not have those things from his family. He was sure that given time that would come back, this whole dream would be a challenge from start to finish. Having a broken family together would not create a calm atmosphere, it would only hinder it. He growled softly to himself in a frustrated manner and stared at Chernabog.
"Hello son."
He spoke more coldly than his son, walls began building up hiding whatever emotion would have crept into his eyes. The emotions he dared for Chern to dig for, but hoped he wouldn't. "How have you been?" No pet names, no affection. He would not go out of his way to attempt seeking this from his family, just as he had expected nothing to him or from him.
"Have you seen your Mother?"
The last question was one of curiosity, not one of concern. Balia was a great being, Angra enjoyed her company and abuse more than he would care to admit.
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