Pet Information

Pet Name: Shun
Owner: Riv
Theme / Type: Terror Mericai
Born: March 4, 2014
Gender: Male
Mood: Mad

MisticPal Name: Naught
MisticPal Age: 3931 Days

Battle Portal Stats

Level: 1
Hit Points: 25 / 25
Strength: 16
Defense: 1
Speed: 21
Intellect: 296
Misticpower: 37

Battles Won: 0
Battles Lost: 0

Attached Weapons

Books Read

Books Read: 309/373 [ View Books ]

Exotic Foods Eaten

Foods Eaten: 0/1254 [ View Foods ]

I wish it were different...

I was not born this way. I went wandering from the heard to explore the surrounding wood. I remember a feeling of dread came over me as I watched the last rays of the sun fade from the tops of the trees. They found me the next morning, near death, bleeding from the wounds whose scars you see today.

They said I would not make it. They called it a tragedy, then a miracle. Yes, I survived. I was shaken, could no longer articulate my thoughts. My life continues, but at what cost to the soul?

When I was young, they pitied me. They game me their sympathy, for I was a brave child who made it through more horror than anyone should have to endure. That is what they said, but I heard the whispers. I noticed how quiet they got as I approached. I heard what they said when they did not know I was there.

"He's creepy."

"Mommy, why does he talk funny?"

"Will he ever be right again?"

"I don't want him around my children."

"He's not normal."

They spoke slowly and softly, always smiling and repeating themselves, as if the accident had mangled my mind as well as my body. I took to myself, and stopped trying to speak with them. Though it pained me to do so, it set them at ease. I suppose it was for the best; they made me feel as if I were something to be pitied, a wretched creature with no future to speak of. So I kept away, seeking company within the pages of books. It kept my mind occupied.

As I grew older, their pity turned to fear and hostility. Mothers shielded their young from me as I passed; others made long detours to avoid me. As I shed the appearance of childhood innocence, they saw me for what I looked like: a monster. As their pitying stares became hostile glares, only one stood by me. My father defended me against their harsh words.

As scary as I look, I had not spoken to most of them in years, in fear of the looks I got as I tried to stammer out my thoughts. I avoided conversation whenever possible, and many saw this as frightening. It was for this reason that I eventually left. Though my father tried to convince me otherwise, I knew there was no other way. They wanted me gone, and I obliged. I have been wandering ever since.

I am lonely, but I cannot go home. I am a social creature by nature, but everywhere I go, it is the same. Always avoiding me, they usher away their young as I approach. Doors close in my face, if their opened at all. I hide from their fearful or guarded stares behind the pages of a book. Learning all I can about the world around me keeps me from focusing on the world I am in. Escape was temporary. Sometimes I could not help but ponder my situation, though I never found a solution. The only thing I accomplished in my musings was to make myself feel worse.

Then there came the voice.

It began as a feeling that I was being watched by unkind eyes, then manifested as a low hiss in my ear. Indistinct words toyed at the edge of my conscious mind. I could not read, I could not sleep, I could only think. For days I only thought of those who turned on me, who judged me, who feared me. The hissed words grew louder, more discernible.

I understood.

It was telling me to fight back, to treat them as they treated me. It was telling me to become the monster I thought I was. If all, like me, were scarred, I would no longer be outcast. I fought it, but the voice was strong, and tempting.

Then he saved me.

He came up the path, this little pal, and when he saw me, froze. I expected him to turn and bolt, but instead he approached slowly, as if he were afraid I would flee. He looked like he had been through a tough time, but then so did I. Just wanting a caring friend, it did not matter to him what I looked like. As I pet him, for the first time since the accident I felt content, happy even. I decided then that even if my fellow Misticans shunned me, any pal in need could find a caring friend in me.

The voice dissipated as I continued my wanderings, followed by the kind little pal. Though I still feel pangs of loneliness, still feel the wary gaze of others, I am no longer completely alone.

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Shun

Tortured - Lonely - Sensitive