-hic- he thought, ‘ I’ve done it before! I have to do it again! ‘ it was the only path to get to his kits, right? the only way? heh . heh.. he just wanted to help Flurryclan survive.. that stupid wolf.. - hic - the pain sank in all at once, he could barely hear his screech. collapsing to the ground, the sun seemed to taunt him and taunt him, he could feel his nose scar opening up again, other than that, everything was completely numb after a moment of agony. he couldn’t move- he could see.. he wasn’t dead yet. opening his jaw to scream for help-? his voice felt broken in a million pieces. through the numbness, he heaved himself up. okay. tell Flurryclan about Fury’s deranged, murderous self or tell Charlie to not bring the kits TO the deranged, murderous cat. oh, no. His kits. They would grow out without a father. why was he thinking like this- he wasn’t dead.. then, suddenly.. he felt something weird- he felt lost. another bolt of pain shot through him as he attempted to stand on his hind legs- this one wort than the last. ugh. that wound was nasty.. „ Gerald? „ scramble managed to squeak out, recollecting his voice, „ Gerald, I love you.. „ he nuzzled closer to the pet rock „ you’ve always been there, since Hacky died, which I was really young and… „ he choked slightly. he didn’t know who to say his monologue to. suddenly, things went. sort of blank.. he felt himself collapse he could hear his surroundings.. he could almost feel Sir Geraldtin.. but he couldn’t. see. or speak. or move.. or anything. he- he can’t.. he can’t die. he’s Scrambleswirl. he’s not immortal but he can’t die yet. not so soon.. not so soo- _______________ end of srp
