“Tsc, I can’t believe you’re still awake, you pathetic scamp! But huh, never mind, the next one will kiss you goodnight… if you were really that lucky, I would’ve knocked you out with just one punch!”
With an evil grin on his bill Abner waits for Gladstone to fight back - he was eager to see how ridiculous the weak punch would be… But instead of trying to hit him the goose decided to taunt the hillbilly… So he wanted more!?
“I’M GONNA SHOW YOU THE BITCH! I’M GONNA PULVERIZE YOUR FUCKING BILL - AFTER I FINISH EVEN YOUR MUM WOULDN’T RECOGNIZE YOU - But you’re in luck, you ALREADY KILLED HER!”
The enraged loon duck raises his right fist, now aiming to hit Gladstone in the face; Abner was hopping mad and clearly out of control, ready to do something he would be sorry for… But Fortuna acted fast.
Abner manages to hit Gladstone once right on his face; then everything started to collapse. The loud creak of the trees made the lumberjack jump back, a terrified look on his face; Abner knew very well the sound of an incoming disaster.
He skillfully dodges two of the falling trees, but the third one falls right on his right foot. Abner shouts and curses, wriggling desperately while trying to escape; but he was trapped. Another tree trunk falls over the mess, one of its branches impaling the loon duck on the torso; its only then, when blood starts dripping from his mouth that he realizes…
Abner coughs, trying to keep grinning at Gladstone. “MURDERER! THAT’S WHAT YOU ARE! Y-you must be so proud… of… y-yourself… winning without doing… no…thi…ng…” The lumberjack spits blood and uses his last forces to give Gladstone the finger.
He finally faints, a red pool growing and growing beneath him. But, honestly? He was thankful for going down while fighting.
{ ☆ } Once again, the tried and true insult rings clearly in the air. How many times can Abner bring up Gladstone’s deceased mother and the fact that the gander killed her, in a single fight? Words and accusatory tone feel SHARP as shards of glass, cutting straight through Glad and making his heart bleed. Blood mirrored in the palms of his hands, pale surface adorned with red welts that sting and ooze crimson, and his lips as he spats out another round of blood. This time, aiming at the other’s feet in a bout of disgust and disrespect. A clear challenge to shut the fuck up and HIT him already…
Turns out, Abner’s timing couldn’t have been BETTER.
Thrust backward by the force of the punch, pain blossoms across Gladstone’s bill, enticing a ringing in his ears and warmth to flow from his nostrils. Stumbling back, eyes closed and blood cascading down his face, arms flail in an attempt to regain his balance before he can hit the ground. Steps are wobbly, Glad ‘tripping’ over divets in the ground and branches that fell long ago, each one guiding him from the fray in a dance of perfect chaos. Dodging whatever stray branches threaten to come his way— the majority seemed riveted on his assailant —the morbid string of luck ends with him slumped against a tree.
This one, solid and sturdy as can be, with a canopy of greenery sheltering him from above.
Chest heaving from the rush of adrenaline coursing through him, a hand shakily wipes at his face, smearing scarlet on disheveled snowy feathers and coating his lips with a metallic taste. Scrunching his beak at it, hissing at the ache it elicits, eyes flutter open with difficulty… only to snap open completely at the sight of the destruction Fortuna had wrought. No; had wrought in HIS defense. He might have well brought down the forest with his own two hands. Swallowing thickly, body tremors from the sight. Heart pounding heavily and blood rushing to his ears, drowning out everything aside from a muffled, headache-inducing ringing.
Look at what he did… Look at what he caused…
Horror doesn’t even begin to describe what is shining in emerald hues when his attention snaps back to where he remembers Abner being, all color draining from his red-tinted face and heart stalling in his chest. His entire being seems to grow cold, the world growing still and silent as death… Well, save for Abner’s voice. Glad can hear HIS words loud and clear, despite how weakly they are spoken. What has he done? Somehow, Abner’s statement manages to hit even harder than before. What is Fethry going to think of this? Than anything he’s ever spoken; if that’s even possible. What is he going to think of him?
He killed him… Fethry’s brother… His cousin… His family… A bitch, but still family.
He just can’t seem to stop hurting people. No matter what he does, he always ends up ‘victorious’ in the end. That’s how it’s supposed to be. That’s how the world works, right? So, then why… WHY is it that he never feels that way? That in order for him to win, someone else has to severely lose. Is this really winning? Has he ever TRULY won anything? Draining those around him dry. Feeding off their misfortune… A leech. A murderous leech.
He should have never left that casino.