It was nearly dark by the time the Pycon arrived at the small cliff which bordered the sand and water, and the last rays of sun glinted and shone offmof the turmoiled surface, refracting on the cliff-face below. Something was wrong, there was an air of... silence. No, not silence- death. With wide eyes Natsu sprinted along in a course parallel with then waters, and came skidding to a halt outside of a large building. This was the place which the Pyve had chosen as their home, and the sacred ground on the far side held the petrified remains of those who had died.The building itself was old and faded, though Natsu remembered it that way from before. The outside was a peacful green which matched the moss that grew on the roof, and the air was crisp and clear.
The mouse-like figure pressed himself against the great door, pushing with all of his might, and very gradually the door gave way and opened, but the scene which lay in front of him made Natsu regret the action. A group of Pycons stood facing the door, faces frozen in terror and agony as if they had died in a split second where they stood. Nearby were various piles of crushed clay, parts of which resembled various creatures or forms. It had been a slaughter, but that was not the worst part. His entire body shaking, Natsu stepped past the frozen group, around the piles of clay, walking up to one crumbled heap in particular and dropping his bag along the way. There was a Pycon, his human-like form motionless in death, kneeling next to the remains of one who had been crushed.
Anyone would think that it would be impossible for Pycons to identify each other, with the shifting forms and all, but there were habits each individual had that defined them. For example, Natsu's mother always carried around a small silver button which she claimed had been given to her by the gods. The kneeling form held this button, clasping it tightly and holding it to their heart, eyes closed tight in fear and anger and sorrow. It was his father, Natsu knew that from the fondness with which he held the trinket, and that meant his mother was the one for which he mourned, the crushed pile before him. He let out a sob, dropping down next to both of them and covering his face with his paws.
Natsu felt the very fiber of his being shaking with grief and anger and terror. What could have done this? Or who? And why, why would anyone...? his mind raced and his ears flattened back against his skull as he tried to get a grip over his emotions. Not knowing what else to do, Natsu numbly let his body control itself, dragging the frozen figures out the rear door one at a time, moving them to the sacred ground and lighting the candles which surrounded the area. Flickers of orange in the black night, little condolence to the souls which were roaming the humid air. He didn't know when he finished, but looking around as if in a daze he saw not a single pile of clay remained. He had swept them into their individual piles and layed them with the others, knowing they deserved as peaceful a sleep as the others. He had even taken his father and mother, careful not to seperate them.
The button which his mother had prized remained clasped in his father's grasp, and though Natsu longed for a reminder of her, he dared not take it. His father had gripped it tightly in his last moments, and it was only right that he continued to do so for all of time. It was then, once the bodies were moved and the candles lit and the night long since begun, that Natsu grieved. He sobbed uncontrollably before the make-shift graveyard, collapsing on the ground and endlessly shaking until unconsciousness gripped his small form and he fell into a deep sleep.
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by Natsu Nendo on May 7th, 2014, 4:53 am 
