[Geronimo]

g e r o n i m o //

He didn't know why but something felt- off.

The air around him felt as it did the same day he learned of Prince Wheatley's death, but this time it was different, it was personal.  It was like some sort of teather, or string was pulling at him, egging him to go find Nora. Standing on ever shaking legs, the yearling boy made his way towards the gardens, a lace he knew Nora loved to be.  It was full of smells, and sounds, things she could hear, things she had grown to love.  

Which was why it was odd that he didn't find her there.  But he could hear her voice- close by, not too far off.  A smile crept across his face as he grew excited to be able to have a talk with his sister after all the things she had gone through, they could finally talk properly, and he could comfort her.  But as the voices he heard began to get louder, and more hostile, the smile on his face faded and gave way to worry.  His legs couldn't help but move faster- stumbling every few steps.

It wasn't until he heard Leonoras screams of terror that he knew this was why he had that feeling in his gut.  His legs picked up speed, but try as he might, they failed him again, and again.  He'd run a few yards before they'd give out, and he'd send himself toppling over, somersaulting over himself, before picking himself back up.  
"Nora! I'm coming!"  Whining that he couldn't get there faster, that he couldn't be there right.  Now.  The screams seemed to be getting further away now- and he wasn't sure if that was because Nora was running or-  or-  No.  No, there was no way.  

His hind legs refused to move anymore, but the smell of blood in the air drove him further into the need of finding Nora.  So he dragged himself, hind legs uselessly dragging in the dirt as he found himself looking onto something else his mind was not ready to take in.  It wasn't Nora lying in the dirt, lifeless, surrounded by signs of a fight, and blood.  No.  It was his mother.  With the sight, his front legs collapsed beneath him, but he crawled to her, his eyes not leaving the lifeless form of his mom.  Afraid to tear them away.  "Mama-"  He whispered, whined.  "Mama, per favore- "  Reaching her, a shaky breath of relief was let out as he could see her chest rise and fall, she was breathing, but for how long? What did he do now?  He had no healing herbs or knowledge, so he did the only thing he knew how to do.

"HELP! PLEASE! AIUTACI!"

He dropped his head onto his mom's side, whining, "Mama, per favore- resta con me. Non so quante più perdite possiamo sopportare "