Blackbeak Bluff My luck, my love, my God they came from pain

@Phaedra :))

He did not fear the unknown. Even in these lands where he was a mere loner would he not cower in fear. Such a fate - such a waste of time simply wasn't destined for him. If anything, he enjoyed this feeling of not belonging, even though he truly did. Right here, in these untouched lands, would he spawn another empire - a symphony of Sombres. Forcefully or not, that was up to the audience.

His darkened brows raised at the sudden dip of the land, going from lush green to a muddled gray and then to the dark blue of the sea. The juice upon his throat was fresh and tangled up his fur, but he cared little as he stared off the edge. One wrong step, one hair out of place, and he would tumble to an unfortunate end. How exciting! He played a dangerous game, remaining at the edge, walking rather gracefully between life and death with a strange grin upon his face.

Once —

when the sky was cloaked in the variegated shades of burnished armor and the earth was swathed in the scent of moss and rain, a stray bolt of lightning shattered the heavens.

It tore through the air, crackling energy deserted in its wake, striking through the dense foliage to kiss a wolf whose alabaster fur stood erect upon her withers and hindquarters.

Pure energy surged through her body — burning, electric — and as quick as it had come it left her singed and crumpled form alone in the wild.

In the distance, a raven cried: Remember!

 

---

 

Remember!

It seemed closer now, biting through the haze of sleep. The woman's eyes parted just barely, black slits against a marred white canvas.  The blurred, black form of a raven darted back and forth in front of her, taunting —

Remember!

She stands lighting fast, catching the feathered beast in her jaws.  Blood seeps through her teeth and down her lips, spilling down her neck. he does not consume the flesh before her, hungry as she may be, because the damned thing has taunted her and now it must suffer. She drops the broken creature, ripping sinew from bone without mercy.  It is not enough!

Phaedra eyes the carnage before her, lowering her nose to it before smearing her face in, her body following.  Crimson smears down her sides and feathers poke from between her guard hairs. Now she smells of the blood of two — her own, and the crow.

Fine.  That will do.

Unable to return to her fitful slumber, the woman in white traces the cliff face, delicately stroking the edge between life and death with a careless ease and before long there was someone else, but it seemed as if the alabaster femme's mood might already have been ruined.

A cackle spilled from his lips as he nearly slipped, something he both wanted and didn't. This was so much more enjoyable than he would've thought! The thrill, the anxiety - it was almost everything he could possibly want to live for. Death was inevitable. Death was final. But death was not today!

His trip was interrupted though - footfalls, and they were coming from right behind him. He halted, bending his head over his shoulder to look upon a being enjoying the thrill as much as he was, or so he presumed. He chuffed a curious greeting, dull eyes eyeing her with purpose and glee rather than malice or annoyance.

The stranger calls to her and she stiffens, a rock careening off into the wilds below and she can see herself


falling

falling

 

falling

but when she turns back to look at him, she is not.  Her ears and tail stand at attention, a soft wag offered as she lowers her head, a curious noise formed at the back of her throat.  She closes some of the distance between them, prickling, looking over and scenting him.

It has been so long since she has seen someone else.  Phaedra is almost unsure of how to act, so instead she does nothing.

She is as a snowflake, considering whether to fall down on earth or to blow about just a wee bit longer. At least, that is what he sees as she resumes stalking him, seeming friendly enough. Especially her eyes attract him; dark and ominous, like him and his background. He wondered then how they would look under the light of the stars; perhaps they would reflect the whole sky then. He wondered if he would ever be allowed to see such beauty.

Do you speak? He questioned rather mindlessly, not knowing if her delicate yet strange looks were just coincidental.

 

the stranger fixes on her and she stiffens, statuesque, a stark difference from the life filled grace from before.  her black gaze engulfs him, swallowing him whole and then he speaks —

and she hits unpause as if nothing had happened, her ears swiveling forward.

she nods.  does she speak?  sure.  will she speak?  if she felt inclined.

He smiles as she now resembles a young doe finally noticing she was surrounded by a pack of wolves. A chance to flee was there, if the doe wanted to flee, but it would not be easy for it to lose its predator. The man stalks a little closer to her, holding his strange head tipped to the side, not bothering to try and hide the mess of blue fur on his throat.

Do you, perhaps, know where I can find a woman worthy enough of my mhhhmm company? He purrs rather innocently for him. Or are you, perhaps, that woman?