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Last Breath [Butter PK]


christman
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Last Breath

 

 


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The moonlight rising from the ocean flooded into the otherwise darkened room. Within, a small critter behind a desk sat. Graying fur shimmering in the dull light. 

Do open the curtains for Butter,” The aged mouse called weakly, a soft cough escaping its maw. Another of its ilk, brown furred, doing so hastily. “The sheep too, will be getting cold. Are they inside? Butter worries for their health.” 

War thinks Butter should be worrying about Butters own health.” Simply, the small companion uttered. Placing a paw upon the Veterans shoulder. “Drink Butters tea, old-folk. It will get cold. Writing can wait, no?”

 

The elderly musin simply offered a smile, before devolving into a series of coughs. As the fit came to an end, Butter stood now. A laborious feat, the soft cane aided in the elder to the bed just adjacent from the desk.

 “Butter will finish Butters writing in the morning; there are some important things to be said.” With the struggle of age, Butter looked towards its son.

Of course,” Assured War, as he did each night. “Now let sleep find Butter, War will tend to the sheep.”

 

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When dawn came, and the frigid cold had not been chased away by a fire, War knew what was inside. The small home was quiet, the sheep not yet tended to, and the paper undisturbed. 

 

Soon, those unfinished letters were sent out unto the world. Neatly penned in the Musin’s hand...

 


To The Silver State:

It has been many years since Butter last served elCihi’thilln, what feels like decades now. In Butters youthful, childish, confusion - Perhaps our relationship soured. Forever, Butter will believe in true Maehr’sae Hiylun’ehya, and Butter wishes elCihi’thilln the best of luck in accomplishing that.

Ay’Larihei, the once Tilruir’Tir, Butter.

 

Orinmon Viradiraar
@_ZONTY_

Orinmon,

Butter shall always regard you as a good friend. One day, perhaps we should reconcile. Butter has been living a good life since retirement, each day Butter is weaker than the last. The damage of the Uruk has never left Butter, breathing now ails Butter. Yet, it shall not kill Butter. 

Yours truly and fellow soldier, Butter.

 

Laerdya
@Venomous_Pup

Laerdya,

you are the last hope for Maehr’sae Hiylun’ehya. Do not let the false idolatry, and blinded believers fool you. Be strong, and lead the Mali’Thill to a greatness previously thought unobtainable. 

A follower, Butter.


 

Arún Dharas Ebonheart
@TojoTime

Arún,

 Butter will forever regard you as a good friend. No matter how ominous you are. Butter is in Butters final years of life, the likelihood of seeing each-other again is slim. Butter wishes you luck in your life, and that you live happily.

Your friend, Butter.

 

Llewellyn Amlugol
@ItsMrCannibal

Llwellyn,

the years tick by; and no sight of you has been found. Butter fears for your health, but in the chance this letter is seen, Butter hopes you are well. It was a pleasure serving with you in elSillumir, and will forever be engraved in Butters memory.

Your comrade, Butter.

 

War
@MaltaMoss

War,

Butter has, and will always, consider you Butter's son. Never did Butter marry, nor bare Butters own children; but you have cared for me much more than any child of Buttters could. Butter hopes to see the day of Musin unification, but please be careful out there. The world is cruel.

A proud Father, Butter.

 


Butter

SA 14 - SA 59, Aged 45

May the soul rest in eternal peace, and the body undisturbed.

 

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Wrapped in umbral hues, a silken-clad man offered a prayer for his late friend. 

 

Spoiler

 

 

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A Servant of the Barrows knelt in prayer for the passing of another legend that night - for he knew more than most that one need naught be tall to change the course of history. 

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“A dead rodent?” Usamea would snort at the idea “How insignificant” She shook her head before returning to her garden, filled with white flowers and beets. 
 

Spoiler

On a side note Butter was such a cute character ;-; F for Butter, a shame we didn’t get to see him as Sohaer 

 

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Laerdya raised a brow as she discovered the unfinished letter within her mailbox at her farm house, her fingers carefully pick it up as then moved to head indoors. She took a seat as she laid the letter out on the table to read, her light blue eyes reading over the letter twice over. The woman's expression was unchanging, though the few sentences had great effect upon Laerdya, as she folded the letter neatly to preserve somewhere safely. She spoke softly, aware of how spirits of those that have past might wander 

"You understood what will take some 'Thill life times to understand, that our way of life must be worked towards, not expect to be delivered on a platter, unlike some others who merely complain and never work towards the change they want. I know what others might think of you, considering that you were Musin, however, none truly understand the world as I, it makes no difference between the greatest of powers or entity that exist in the lands, and the lowliest of flies. Only the actions it takes is what truly matters. Rest well, llir." 

Laerdya pondered a few moments over the letter, as she slotted it safely into a draw, shutting it shortly after. She never thought much of herself as a leader, more so an advisor, after all, her path was different from that of a leader, and her insight suited for the role she fashioned for herself. Though there is more than one way to lead change, through guidance and assistance, ink and quill, blood and steel, but she knew one thing for sure, a group of people that must go through understanding must do so at their own pace, refusal will simply lead to ruin. Though some ideas ran through her mind.

 

She came to a stop as she pulled a seat out to sit upon it, thinking about her prior thoughts, as she mutters out one more comment.

"Ironic the thoughts you inspired in me, when most fail to make a substantial, coherent thought, and they believe themselves above the turning chaos of the world."
 
 

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A musin that once served briefly alongside this fallen war hero shed a tear "winter knows that butter in the great rat hole in the sky, may they rest in peace"  the small musin then continued to walk within capital of Haelun'or 

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On the shelves on heroes, both of history and myths, that stood in the Duke's personal library. Eugeo assuredly placed a portrait copy of Butter proudly on its own. 

"A respected servant of the people, both of its own kind and its host nation." 

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Valindra silently mourned the loss of the musin she’d once procured an entire bathtub of strawberries for.

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Somewhere where souls could not reach Caranthir Gve'el Me'v  stood and mourned the passing of the shepherd.

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From within a dirty and dusty basement, a faintly raggedy musin worked away at mashing and crushing way too many herbs and shoving them in copious amounts of jars full of salt water. The critter paused from his work, waddling away to collect piles of notes and papers left by the giant door. As he quickly looked through all the papers, he deemed most to be complete junk and tossed them aside for the others to deal with. Just then, his little eyes squinted as he caught attention of one of the notes. As the lanky mouseman struggled to read through the note he abruptly stopped, eyesw widening. Only one word escaped from him: "Shit." At that, he spun around and scurried off to deliver the news to his friends and fellow musin.

Edited by Wet_Roaches
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