Post by Zettai Tekina on Dec 5, 2016 1:32:40 GMT -5
The howling first came to him in his sleep. In the dead of night, when one could hear the squeak of the moon as it drug across the sky, his subconscious picked up a familiar energy signature. It filled his brain with the howling of winds and the cracking and thunder, becoming increasingly louder until he woke up. Sliding out of bed and allowing the thin cotton sheet he used for comfort more than heat drop to the ground, he stumbled groggily to the paneless, singular window in his quarters.
Trying to clear his head, he observed the sands momentarily, letting the full light of the moon and Las Noches’ court lights reactivate his brain. After a few moments, he yawned and scratched his scalp to dislodge stuck hairs from the way he slept. Without taking his eyes off the desert, he reached for his zanpakuto and lifted it off the hook it rested on before climbing out the window. Pulling the strap over his head, he slid it past his shoulder before adjusting it across his bare chest.
He could hear him screaming. He didn't know if it was physically, but it was as if Cazador’s very soul was screaming somewhere out in the desert. Swearing loudly as he climbed out into the air, suspended on a condensation of his spiritual energy before leaping down onto the ground, he took off at a jog. It was hard to get a read on his spiritual pressure, but when he did get a taste of it, it was very intense. Whatever was happening, it was big. Why did he run off without telling him? What possible logic was there for leaving him out of this one? Using the frustration of not knowing to spur him on, he slipped a sonido into his charge every few hundred meters to lessen the strain the journey was going to have on his body.
Readjusting his course every time he got a pulse of Cazador’s reiatsu, he wondered just how far out he had gone to do whatever he was doing. Why put so much distance between himself and Las Noches? It was a good thing his Espada wasn't shy to answering his questions and was patient with him, because Zettai’s tongue burned at the thought of finding him and unloading on him. ’Where the hell are you?’
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Wc: 393/393
Trying to clear his head, he observed the sands momentarily, letting the full light of the moon and Las Noches’ court lights reactivate his brain. After a few moments, he yawned and scratched his scalp to dislodge stuck hairs from the way he slept. Without taking his eyes off the desert, he reached for his zanpakuto and lifted it off the hook it rested on before climbing out the window. Pulling the strap over his head, he slid it past his shoulder before adjusting it across his bare chest.
He could hear him screaming. He didn't know if it was physically, but it was as if Cazador’s very soul was screaming somewhere out in the desert. Swearing loudly as he climbed out into the air, suspended on a condensation of his spiritual energy before leaping down onto the ground, he took off at a jog. It was hard to get a read on his spiritual pressure, but when he did get a taste of it, it was very intense. Whatever was happening, it was big. Why did he run off without telling him? What possible logic was there for leaving him out of this one? Using the frustration of not knowing to spur him on, he slipped a sonido into his charge every few hundred meters to lessen the strain the journey was going to have on his body.
Readjusting his course every time he got a pulse of Cazador’s reiatsu, he wondered just how far out he had gone to do whatever he was doing. Why put so much distance between himself and Las Noches? It was a good thing his Espada wasn't shy to answering his questions and was patient with him, because Zettai’s tongue burned at the thought of finding him and unloading on him. ’Where the hell are you?’
----
Wc: 393/393
