(writing request, by Loira)


Published
5 months, 4 days ago
Stats
818

The sand was warm beneath Kazu’ran’s feet as the Troll stepped from the tree line and onto the beach. The Stranglethorn Bonfire Bash had returned once again, this its sixth year, and this time he had a very special guest: Za’tul, his two month old son.

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The sand was warm beneath Kazu’ran’s feet as the Troll stepped from the tree line and onto the beach. The Stranglethorn Bonfire Bash had returned once again, this its sixth year, and this time he had a very special guest: Za’tul, his two month old son. He was strapped to Kazu’ran’s chest, the leather harness strong and sturdy, fit for the curious twists and turns the youngster made and for the naps taken throughout the day.

The sun was bright and hot as he walked slowly down towards the water, tail swishing in idle contentment. There was life and activity all around them, members of Team Max organizing various competitions including everything from sand castle building to surfing and, further inland, cliff diving as well. Their competitive spirits brought an energy, drive and passion to Stranglethorn’s beaches, while those on Team Relax were just as dedicated to taking it easy and pampering themselves. Kazu had passed many groups of people lounging in beach chairs with cool drinks aplenty, sighing in contentment as the fresh ocean breeze washed over them.

There was something for everyone at the Bonfire Bash. For Kazu’ran, a chance to take a breath and spend time with the newest addition to his family. As he walked along the shoreline, waves lapping gently at his feet, the Troll looked back up over the beach. “There be balance with the two teams, little one. Got to be having both: time to rest and time to run.” Orange eyes looked down to his son, the back of Za’tul’s head resting against his chest. Kazu’s lips curled up around his tusks as he grinned, “but you got time to learn all that.”

Turning towards the water, Kazu’ran closed his eyes as the ocean breeze ruffled his short blue fur. The markings to his Loa, Bwonsamdi, were laid overtop in white, the various bones as familiar to him now as his own tusks. It was a good day, peaceful and calm. Somewhere further up the beach was Finak’dor, his mate and Za’tul’s mother. She’d gone to get cocktails for them both, insisting that Kazu stay and relax, that she’d return soon.

Tipping his chin back to feel the full warmth of the sun, Kazu gave a small sigh of contentment. It was good to be here with his family. He knew their friends were near, it was just a matter of wandering long enough to run into them. Inhaling deeply, the blue haired Troll turned back to face the shore.

A hand lifted to adjust his sunglasses as he stood with hands on his hips, looking about the nearby crowds, ears wiggling with anticipation. Surely there would be a familiar face! As he squinted behind his tinged glasses, Kazu’ran realized there were none. Not here, at least. His ears sunk slightly with a feeling of sheepish embarrassment and he walked quickly back up the sand. It would be easier to spot them from the trees, he reasoned, and the shade would be good for him and Za’tul both.

He walked beneath the trees for a few minutes, ears twitching this way and that at the various sounds of revelry coming from all directions. Laughter was chief among them, but voices raised to tease and taunt also carried well over the sand. A pleased purr rumbled out of Kazu’ran’s throat as  he took in the merriment, and then his ears perked up in recognition: Farabu and, was that Iri he heard as well?

His tail started in a slow wag as he stretched and stood tall, orange eyes peering out over the crowds. It took a moment, but one of the benefits of knowing Fara was that his strange, purple friend towered over most other people. In the same group was the unmistakable red of Otis’ hair, the shorter Undead tossing a volleyball between both his hands with a wicked grin on his face. Kazu didn’t recognize everyone in the group, but it was clear some of his friends were involved in an impromptu volleyball game, with others watching from the sides.

Iri was the first to spot his approach, the energetic Void Elf grinning wide and waving a hand well over her head, “oi’ Kazu! Come on n’ join us then mate -gotta get tha wee one ‘is first taste o’ volleyball!” Chuckling to himself, the Troll lifted a hand in greeting as hellos and introductions were made, settling into the sand in the shade of the umbrella stuck up by some of the other spectators. Leaning back to watch the game, one hand resting gently around his son, Kazu’ran gave a long contented exhale. Summer had made it to Stranglethorn, and it was high time for him - and everyone he knew and loved - to relax.