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|hazel guinevere tyler||
Posted: Aug 4 2015, 11:15 AM
Posted: Aug 8 2015, 12:25 PM
is this the place that i've been dreaming of?
The bark beneath his calloused feet, the feeling of the wind against his cheeks, the thrill of his heart beating against his chest… it felt good. It felt right to be back in the tree tops, surfing along familiar branches and to simply be wild and free. The city which he called sanctuary, that had taken him in and saved from the darkness that corrupted his world, was just a concrete jungle he couldn’t hope to fit in. These people called themselves civilized, walked on two feet and drove contraptions called cars… yet they destroyed the world they lived in and smothered the life that kept them breathing, turning magnificent trees in to nothing more than potted plants and roadside attractions. It was dirty and dank and the air was filthy… and he couldn’t for the life of him understand what made them more human than him. In his eyes, they were the uneducated ones… but what did he know?
The darkness as strong as it was to scare people from their homes and bully them in to the filthy city didn’t scare him. He had fought them twice now since he had been caged up in the bottom of a freighter, terrible beasts and masked men alike, and they didn’t scare him. He was a strong man, a strong ape, the mighty killer of Sabor and protector of his family—even if Kerchak had banished him for his betrayal. He had trained himself to be fit, to be fierce, and he wasn’t about to let some weird dark entity move in and torture the denizens of this world like they were just ants—like they were small and insignificant. Every creature had a purpose, from the mighty ape of his pack that he hoped had avoided Clayton’s vicious attack down to the tiny squirrel he had rescued just minutes before.
Branch by branch, vine by vine, he sped through the canopy of the forest, taking leaps and bounds to get away from the darkness that had found the innocent creature. He was no hero, no fighter in the group that called themselves ‘the resistance’—whatever that was—but he was a protector of those who couldn’t protect themselves. Like he had saved his family from Sabor, like he had saved the Jane lady from the baboons, and like he had saved all those imprisoned victims when he first woke up, he was a protector. He would fight for those who couldn’t, and nothing else. He didn’t go looking for trouble, but he would be damned if he didn’t put it to an end.
There was still a sense of anxiety that crept in to his body as he flew through the trees, concentrated on the branches in front of him and trying to find a good place to hide and make sure they were safe. A glance cast backwards, his cheek brushing against the smooth fur of the squirrel caused him to momentarily crinkle his nose and blow little bits out of his way, and he saw they that were no longer being followed. The creatures, whatever they were that had tried to trap the tiny defenseless animal had either been lost or simply gave up. But that still didn’t mean they weren’t headed for trouble. There wasn’t a safe place in this jungle, in this world. There were only safe moments. Still though, it seemed that for now he could find a place to stop and rest, the burning of his legs and feet demanding his attention as soon as the thought crossed his mind. The human world, the filthy concrete jungle had made his body weak—his skin soft from not being out in the sun, from being covered in clothes and shoes like civilized man. But he was determined to not let that place change him.
Jumping from a tall branch and in to a clearing, blue eyes surveyed the area. Resting on all-fours, his body fell in to a threatening yet defensive stance, his teeth bared as he growled, making claim to this place and warning any creature nearby not to even bother. He might wear the skin of man, but in his chest beat the heart of an ape and no amount of lessons or days spent in New York would change that. When Tarzan was satisfied that the area was safe, he lifted a calloused finger and prodded at the excited squirrel’s belly, a grunt escaping his lips as he urged her from her perch. Brows furrowed when he felt her clambering in his dreads, his eyes crossing for a moment as he tried to see what she was up to, before shaking the odd feeling and looking down as she perched herself on his knee.
Head cocked to the side in confusion as she tried to gather his attention, he lifted a h and from the ground and prodded at her again in question, his head moving from the right and leaning toward the left. He didn’t understand squirrel—in fact he had only seen them before in New York, so while he had an understanding of many monkey-esque languages and mannerisms, this was all new to him. Leaning in closer to her, curiosity tickling him, he gave a questioning ‘ooh’ at her, nudging her gently with his curled knuckle.
Solar/Hazel. 888 words. Hope its okay :3