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Eastern Winds Bring...
Username: StarrySeas

Sentinel's Name: Splitmud

Sentinel's Gender: Male

Prompt Response: (Prompt 2)
Splitmud hurdled himself across the hot ground, digging his claws into the soil for his life. A dark, panting form was in close pursuit, and he hauled his small body forward even faster. His claws continued to whip soil into the air behind him. The earth he kicked was soft, warm, and lifeless; he should have noticed sooner, should have noticed the shift in the air, the dry thirst of the place. The Hearth was no place for a lone juvenile Sentinel. The monster behind him snarled, and he looked back for a moment, at the creature chasing him. It was like nothing he’d ever seen before, and like nothing he’d ever see again.
This quick glance backwards was his downfall, and he stumbled over a jutting rock and tumbled into the dust. He had been lucky that he had not even gone close enough to the Hearth to see the glowing river of heat inside it. But he had not been so lucky to encounter one of the angry beasts that were said to live inside it. The shadowed being lumbered forward on all fours, towering over the small Sentinel. He was a runt, an orphan, unlucky, and above all, about to die. Split gazed upon the monster as it slowed, tried to distinguish it’s features, but he couldn’t tell scales from fur from feathers in this heat. His very blood boiled, between the running for his life and the scorching atmosphere of the place, and all despite the lack of sun. Night was a time of stillness and cold, but here it was the opposite. Here at night things began to stir, and the air was no less heavy and hot.
The creature was over him now, breathing even more heat into his face. It was nothing more than a shadow to him, and he could barely keep his green eyes open long enough to gaze into the eyes of the animal. It sniffed him, first. Then a lick. What was it doing? Split couldn’t even fathom a guess. A pair of large jaws closed in on his neck. This was it.
Suddenly, it launched him into the air, and he fell into the dirt. Was it playing with him? It let out a cruel sound, one that would haunt him for the rest of his life. Yes, it must have been playing with him. He had often played with his food himself, tossing it into the air before it landed in his jaws and slid down his throat. How cruel of him, he thought, now that he felt he was in the same position. The creature loomed over him again, and he tried striking at it, but all that got him was a clout to the head. The word around him sang, sang a high pitched song of death and ash. A heavy paw shoved him onto his back, then rested itself over his heart. It felt strange, foreign, though unignorable and sharp. Pain and blood spouted from his skin as the claw carved down from his sternum and threatened to split open his belly. A loud, low Sentinel’s song called out over barren land just before he slipped into unconsciousness.
He awoke to the sound of birdsong and a snarl. Was this the afterlife?
“Ay, you little runt!” An elderly Sentinel prodded at his side. He groaned and opened his eyes. Scarsnout stood over him, his pack’s leader. “Wakey, wakey. Ya’ve got some explain’ to do.” Splitmud looked down at his belly, which was covered in a line of some sort of healing pulp. He then looked up at the scrawny form of the old one. “What were ya think’? Challengin’ the Hearth were ya?” Scarsnout glared down at the young Sentinel. “No, it wasn’t like that! I got lost - a monster attacked me!” Splitmud pleaded. “Fever vision, no doubt. I thought ya weren’t like that, Muddy, stupid enough to challenge the Hearth.” Splitmud winced at the words and the pain of his wound. As he moved, it was starting to bleed freshly. The elder couldn’t ignore that. “Didja run into some bullies, there, boy? Those boil-brained fiends tha’ think they can live near the Hearth?” The elder rolled his eyes and turned to leave the area where Splitmud was laying. “Ya know I have no patience for fools like that,” He spat and left. Splitmud would be left behind, he knew it. In his current state, he wouldn’t be able to move on with the pack, and not only that, but he had disappointed his leader. He wouldn’t have wanted to go with them anyway, they would never have any respect for him now. At the though, something curled up, as though burnt, inside him.
He looked down at his belly once more. No one in his pack could make a salve like this, no one could have saved him.
Maybe he had one guardian left out there afterall.


Optional Responses:
Personality: Splitmud is a level-headed, withdrawn orphan Sentinel that was found by a pack of elderly Sentinels. In such an environment he matured quickly, only having the adults around him to mimic, and was forced to entertain himself as the elderly couldn’t keep up with his energy. They could, however, provide him with a great wealth of mental stimulation, which fueled him to be a greatly creative thinker and rich in knowledge of the world.

Roleplay Plans: I plan to RP him wandering throughout Hearthside as he grows up, hopefully makes friends, and finally meets someone his age. Maybe he’ll find others who believe the monsters are real, spread tales about them, gain a reputation. I can see him leading an investigation into the matter of what might live in or near the Hearth, not just to vanquish a potential evil, but an expedition to gain more knowledge. Since he’s a smart and physically capable young male, I think it would fit him to become a leader of his own pack when he is an adult.