relmyna's soft croon was enough to break the icy wall astara had encrusted herself in; quickly the coldness melted, and her mother was met once more with a calm, soft gaze. in her youth astara's whims would be quick to settle, and faster to depart -- as she grew older her fancies would solidify, her convictions would become entrenched -- but for now, she was most malleable, particularly where her mother was concerned.
the girl watched relmyna's mouthings, but if she understood them no token of recognition stirred in her deep indigo eyes. her mother's posturing she understood, and responded to with a slow sweep of her tail. while no answer stirred in her throat her eyes communicated much of her interest, which seemed to inquire in their own way what are we doing?
the girl obediently tread after the confident step of her mother, mirroring the low sweep of relmyna's assured gait. before long they came across a trail fresh with maegi's scent; astara watched as her mother bent to the trail and apprised her with a pointed look.
the thoughts conveyed in the fractured turquoise of relmyna's gaze were for a moment lost on the nightcub. she fussed along the ground, misinterpreting that they were looking for maegi. it did not occur to her that her dam was inquiring as to the stone's keeper. her brow worked in a creased frown of frustration, wondering if her dam intended for her to stalk maegi's scent until she came across her.
the feisty child landed in a rumpled heap, staring upright still at the black plumes of the beast which sat wholly out of reach. astara eyed its clacking form resentfully, a low growl bubbling in her throat as she saw it shake its long wings and flutter well beyond her vision.
she turned in time to see her mother prone on the ground; this position vexed the girl, and she approached with her head tilted. the body language was not unknown to astara, for she had seen it displayed in moments of subservience among her packmates. did her mother believe those winged rats were somehow better than them? why would a creature possessing fangs and claws ever bow to a plumed and fragile race? astara's ears swept back - half in confusion, half in slight disbelief.
surely it was a joke, right?
astara was a proud girl; and yet, pride had been the ruin of many men. she glanced from the mother she adored to the darkly clad, raucous subjects. surely there was a deeper meaning here she had yet to grasp
mute as ever the nightcub followed the sweeping strides of her dam. underfoot the raw crunch of whittled bones announced their passing - astara felt a chill climb her spine as they moved, yet it was the grim and spectral smile of her felled kin that’s undid her. she glanced upon it’s fractured forehead, the deep cleft of its vacant orbital plate.
it stared back; astara felt aware of a hostile presence in those sightless holes - a malign and sleeping will that spread its reach around them. a growl started low in her throat, and she looked fearfully to her mother for some sort of comfort.
astara: NOPE!
she watched in wary silence as her mother pressed ahead; a gentle nudge had been passed along her ruffled cheek, but the nightcub did not alter the bristling of her fur. she watched as her mother bent to the fractured dome of the skeleton and seemed to tenderly drag her muzzle across it. this bizarre gesture meant little to astara, who seemed to witness this all with a perturbed sort of discomfort.
and then, deciding she had no reason to fear this wretched and inanimate thing any longer, astara sprung upon the skull with a merciless growl, and seized it by its orbital socket -- without dallying (for she expected the scolding of her mother shortly after) the nightcub dragged the heavy load from its long-standing rest, and galloped awkwardly off with it.
l m a o! lettuce wrap up here cuz im a slowpoke
relmyna knew it was not for her to understand how the gods manifested in astara and averna. and yet, shock, then horror, gripped her visage as her nightcub stole the skull from its perch. the woman started forward, holding herself back only when the absence of cawing anger from the blackbirds seemed to suggest all remained well.
blinking up at them in chagrin, the listener dipped her scarred muzzle; turning with a sigh, she set off at a lop after astara. whatever plans the child had for the ivoried old thing, she wanted to know. she must know, both out of curiosity and a deep fear the gods would be upset all the same.
it was a good thing astara was unaware of the black mark she was incurring, desecrating the sacred face of some old god's shrine. gods had a way of being mercilessly powerful -- and incredibly unforgiving -- so, either these gods were the kind of revengeful twats that would scheme some asshole plan to smite her when she thought she was safe, or, these weren't gods at all.
astara of course, would have gone for the latter - the atheist option would have appealed to the hellraiser, if she was ever introduced to the concept. right now the only concept she was aware of, was that she had a skull -- a giant, massive skull -- and it was a skull her dam had implied was important.
cackling shrilly, the girl didn't stop as she heard her mother's disapproving tread behind her; even the way relmyna's paws crunched over leaves seemed to portend to some nuanced resignation on the mother's part -- why was her child such a fruitbat?
the world would, evidently, never know -- and neither would the skull, which this entire time had been half-dragged on the ground with loud thumps echoing behind it each stride, enduring its humiliating and unprecedented journey with the obscene grin one expected from a deskinned skull ; thump, thump, thump, went the bobbing motion of the skull's nasal bone against dirt; thump, scrape, thump, as the black and sightless orbit stared skyward, hauled in defilement to some unknown designation by a witless kid.