Oniwanbashu

He could taste bile in the back of his throat, the nauseating bitterness offsetting the salty, iron pang of blood which he tried to clear from his throat, though every time he tried to breath, it dripped on the pavement in thick spatters. Something was broken inside him, stabbing him in the stomach, in the lung—-everything hurt, but hurt he could deal with. Not being able to take a breath and drowning in his own blood however was another thing altogether, and as Davos drunkenly tried to get back to his feet, he could make out the bristling silhouette of the Bewear approaching Rhames. All he could think about was what would happen if th

The weekly visits to the vet had become routine at this point, as did the low hum of machinery that droned away in the corner of his mind as the treatment went on as it always did over wires upon wires being inserted into the aging Luxray who laid on the gurney quietly as the medics cautiously worked on him, half-expecting the swipe of a paw if they made a wrong move. “Careful. Ye come up him from his blind side, he’s more likely to take a jab at ya,” Rhames piped up from over the nondescript magazine about home cooking after studying for several minutes the skittish movements of a fresh-faced intern who potentially hadn