What it Means to Persevere

Survival of the Fittest

In Allhalla, Skeletons, like many other species, only kept the children that were most likely to survive on their own. If a child was sick, yes, they'd try to save it, but if it was a physical deformity... they would be left for the predators to deal with. Things like blindness, deafness, or missing limbs could not be tolerated in this time. So when the Seemas realized that Wingdings was deaf... the infant Skeleton was removed from the other, healthy, baby bones and left far from Allhalla with nothing to even shelter him from the cold. What could a child like himself do but cry, hoping for someone to come to his aid... or put him out of his misery. It certainly did attract the attention of something. The hungry strays from a nearby settlement, always looking for anything small and vulnerable like Wingdings. The child let out an ear piercing scream when fangs punctured his palms, trying to get a hold on him to tear him apart. That attracted a different sort of attention though. "GET OUTTA HERE YA DAMNED DOGS!" A voice all but howled out. Wingdings was released and the monster in question ran to check on the abandoned infant.

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Wingdings whimped as very large, but gentle claws examined the circular holes in his hands. There was not much the monster could do now, the dust from the damaged bone prominent. "Who would even abandon a child as young as you out here?" The monster was a tiger. Large, muscular, and scary to most children. But Kazar was a gentle soul when the creatures in question weren't trying to murder a child. Kazar tugged off his shawl and wrapped Wingdings in it, pulling the child closer to his pale purple chest. Well, if nobody else wanted him, Kazar would gladly take him home. After all, outcasts had to stick together.

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Kazar was a purple tiger with dark purple stripes and pale purple on his chest, chin, etc. He liked wearing shorts and a tank top with a shawl, it was his choice of clothing. He lived on the very outskirts of his town, where he spent his time studying the world around him and writing about it. Everything and anything he saw he journaled. He looked to look at the humans research as well, learn what they knew. The humans were always a good source of information. He used some of that information now as he carefully bandaged up Wingdings hands so they wouldn't get only more damaged or something. "I wonder what to call you, little bones?" Kazar questiond once he finished. Wingdings didn't react to his voice, of course. "Ah, you are probably hungry, no?"

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"How about Tulang? How do you like that?" Kazar mused as he helped Wingdings eat small pieces of fruit. Wingdings was about as responsive as ever, opening his mandible in a quiet plead for more. Kazar frowned quietly. "How strange, I should be getting some reaction out of you. You don't even look my way... perhaps... can something without ears even have such a disability?" Wingdings tracked his hand, knowing that was where he got food. While he was busy with that, Kazar grabbed a fork with his other hand and dropped it on the floor, waiting for a reaction. None came. He looked at the small Skeleton sadly. "I see, so you cannot hear. That's why you were left." Kazar gave the infant a grim smile. "I will protect you from now on, Tulang." Kazar finished feeding Wingdings and but him on his cot while he prepared a bath for the little one. "I will need to make you clothes, Tulang, and get you your own place of rest. Teaching you will be difficult without your hearing, but we will figure something out." Kazar sighed, wondering if the child was born deaf or if his hearing was taken from him. His soul held a bit of damage, likely from the trauma he experienced with the dogs, but there was no saying for certain with the little Skeleton. Wingdings couldn't say either, he was far too young.

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Wingdings was back on the cot and wrapped in the shawl as he slept. Kazar had much to do while Wingdings slept and at the moment it consisted of making Wingdings a rocking cradle where he could rest beside Kazar's cot. The purple tiger was simply to big to share his cot with an infant, the poor child would suffocate beneath him. Thus, the cradle. After he would make Wingdings something he could wear until he could go to the market in the morning, it was already closed for the day. Kazar looked at the bandages on Wingdings hands. The boy was lucky not to have lost them. He could only imagine how hard it was going to be for Wingdings to even use his hands with those holes in his palms. Kazar folded up one of his smaller blankets and laid Wingdings in it, smiling when the child nestled deeper into his bedding. With that done, Kazar turned his attention to making Wingdings a simple nightgown for the night. He was a Skeleton, he surely didn't need a diaper, he hasn't pottied in all this time being naked, so Kazar was safe there... he hoped.

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Kazar jolted at the noises that came from his right side. He peeked around with bleary blue eyes, staring at a squirmy mass as it rocked from the movement of the mass. He blinked, rubbing his eyes to clear them from the sleepy haze he was in. Wingdings babbled softly as he shoved his foot in between his teeth, still making contented baby noises as he did. Kazar couldn't help but laugh at him. "Well, it seems your hungry if you're eating your feet, Tulang. After we can get you some real clothes." He sat up and picked up Wingdings, his black 'nightgown' going well past his little feet.