Script Language

Viper's reclusive nature had only intensified since his announcement and Ivory's visit. The Frenchman had closed himself off to everyone besides Val and wanted desperately to keep it that way. He wasn't friendly with anyone in the Dynasty and didn't intend for that to change. The French serval let Alexei and Val do the talking and watched from the sidelines with fuzzy thoughts and nothing of value to add. Perhaps it was the sudden need to adjust to a new place or the shocking news of his son being alive, Viper couldn't be certain, but he knew that he felt more tired than usual. Tired and empty. Everything was a chore and Viper had no energy to bother with chores. The most Viper did was wander outside to get a bite to eat and then flee back to bed before anyone saw him.

However, on this rare day, Viper had walked outside and sat himself by the pond. His fur was matted in places and dulled. Tired pink eyes were half lidded against the unfamiliar sun. Everything felt strange and off putting. The only reason Viper had come here was for the warm rocks. Dragging his trembling body onto the flat surface and flopping on his side, Viper let the sun soak into his spotted pelt.

"Remember, I made you perfect. Why do you hate my creation so much. Please stop breaking my heart."

Viper sat upright and stared around for a moment, heaving in a breath. His pink eyes stared into the pond where a fish sat, paddling at the water.

It's eyes met Viper's.

"You've been here a while. Better wake up before you forget how to."

Viper's heart stopped beating as he watched the sunlight blink off of the pearly, human teeth of the fish. The water seemed eerily red and ominous.

His mouth opened in a silent, shocked scream. His matted pelt bristled and fluffed out but didn't hide his trembling legs.

"Your son came home but your Isaac will never because you didn't love him enough, you're an embarrassment to your husband."

Instead of a scream, Viper's voice came out in a pleading sob. "No! Go away! Leave me alone, go away!" He shrieked, throwing any rock in reach at the fish. Eventually, the Frenchman ran out of rocks, so naturally, he three his glasses. By then, the fish had faded from his sight. The fish, a figment of Viper's torn and wounded imagination.

The serval sat on the rock, blind and gasping for air. His tears left dark marks on the stone surface. "V-Val! I lost my glasses, I need-- I need you, please," His raspy voice was panicked and begging as he folded in on himself, protecting his trembling little body from imaginary harm. The pregnant serval sat alone and sobbing on the rock by the pond, filled with talking fish and scary things that would hurt his babies and take Ivory, but he had no energy or willpower to move.