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HeavensHens88 said:
so
uh
found this rough thing in the bottom of one of my mass mess google docs
apparently Connor was supposed to die in a completely different way
Bleddyn’s heart lodged in her throat as the truck squealed, then callously roared on.
Her legs were senseless and rubbery as she ran, threatening to collapse her and never work again.
But, somehow, she made it.
The truck’s diehard pursuer lay motionless on the smoking pavement. Bleddyn’s faltering legs gave out just as she reached him, but her arms took over and gathered the frozen wolf to her. His head, with eyes slitted just short of being shut, limply lolled away from her grasp. A thin trickle of blood wormed its way from his muzzle as she tilted his head back onto her lap. “Dad. Dad. Dad, get up. We’ve got to go. Dad. Gotta go. Please. We’ve gotta get them.” Her voice cracked to a shattering pitch as her hands spasmodically ran along his flank. Move, move, move, move, move. “Dad. Daddy.” Her voice had lost all of its usual rasp now; for the first time, her voice was pretty, and it was horrifying. She crumpled over him, pressing her face against his, as though she could get him to hear her by projecting her voice directly into his ear. “Why aren’t you getting up?”
With his upper body still possessively cradled in her trembling arms, she whirled around with a dangerously pale face. In this moment, despite the hardening cuts and scars, she seemed impossibly fragile, the youngest of them all.
“Someone help him. Someone help him. Please.”
Click to expand...

Thanks, I really don’t want these feels.
 
HeavensHens88 said:
so
uh
found this rough thing in the bottom of one of my mass mess google docs
apparently Connor was supposed to die in a completely different way
Bleddyn’s heart lodged in her throat as the truck squealed, then callously roared on.
Her legs were senseless and rubbery as she ran, threatening to collapse her and never work again.
But, somehow, she made it.
The truck’s diehard pursuer lay motionless on the smoking pavement. Bleddyn’s faltering legs gave out just as she reached him, but her arms took over and gathered the frozen wolf to her. His head, with eyes slitted just short of being shut, limply lolled away from her grasp. A thin trickle of blood wormed its way from his muzzle as she tilted his head back onto her lap. “Dad. Dad. Dad, get up. We’ve got to go. Dad. Gotta go. Please. We’ve gotta get them.” Her voice cracked to a shattering pitch as her hands spasmodically ran along his flank. Move, move, move, move, move. “Dad. Daddy.” Her voice had lost all of its usual rasp now; for the first time, her voice was pretty, and it was horrifying. She crumpled over him, pressing her face against his, as though she could get him to hear her by projecting her voice directly into his ear. “Why aren’t you getting up?”
With his upper body still possessively cradled in her trembling arms, she whirled around with a dangerously pale face. In this moment, despite the hardening cuts and scars, she seemed impossibly fragile, the youngest of them all.
“Someone help him. Someone help him. Please.”
Click to expand...
DANG IT! You had just enough Lion King quotes there to get me to cry.
 

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