Cold Throne's head swam as he lay on the floor, sweat beads rolling to and fro as his head shook at his unease. His mind wandered to his family and happiness, things that muddled the mind from the hunt. The sounds were washed out and the images blurry and fringed by darkness, his mother came to view.
She spoke to him in her calm and soothing voice, the light coming through the window making dust particles visible, but they all seemed to part around her. Her soft yellow eyes shown with a brightness and the light shown across her tendrils, they were black as night. But the happiness was ripped away as he noticed a stranger in the doorway.
His eyes widened and he felt fear, something he hadn't felt since he was a child.... His mother turned and raised her arms outstretched to this intruder, this person who did not belong. As the stranger stepped into the light he realized who he it was, his father. He barely knew him and was fairly sure the man wouldn't recognize him in a group of others, he was only around long enough to leave body parts and impregnate Cold Thrones mother.
Cold Throne had no love for his father, he was... an unfeeling person, Cold Throne's father. He never said "I love you son" or showed any care for him or his siblings, he was alien to them all. Cold Throne was displeased when his father took him on his first hunt, he knew it was only because it was tradition for them now that Cold Throne was old enough for it.
Cold Throne's eyes opened partially, the room around him was blurred, all he could see was the ceiling and two other Yautja, but only their elbows. He tried to sit up but fell back to the floor, it felt as if a huge worm was constricting his torso, his limbs weighed so much it seemed, the back of his hand landed on one of the twos feet as he tried to remain awake, but it was so hard for him.
His eyes were fringed with darkness and it tried to creep into the room, pulling at his eyelids, trying to shut him out. But he fought it, he fought it with his all. He groaned and gurgled as he tried to lift himself up, his limbs betraying him as tears welled in his eyes.
If he lost this battle of wills he'd be done for good.