Greatwater Lake theology & civilization

@Damien!

 

Already, night descended. Having woke only just as the sun disappeared beneath the ocean's tide, Antigone was way too chipper to have opened her eyes to darkness. What few days she'd spent gaining her bearings in this strange (and vast) land had been spent in sunlight, and while she appreciated the warmth and what few showers of rain she'd enjoyed, there was nothing better than the light of the moon. And on this night, thankfully, she was bright in her black furs, shining that comforting eerie light over the plains her oracle travelled and glittering off the lake she came across.

Antigone rounded its bank for what seemed like ages before coming to what she hoped was the other side - it's most southern point from where she'd entered was the best place to drink, and she took gulps. The day had been long, and her paws ached from the constant movement. She could visit the bog again, the one she'd found around the mountain, but it hadn't been right. With no trees overhead, it was just too powerful; no living Phyrgian was meant to be in a place where the moon and water met with no shadow. Here, though, the water was held in the earth, and seeing its end on the bank across the way (however far) meant that it wasn't as great as the horizonless bog.

She had been taught not to stare at the face of the moon as one might be told not to stare at the sun - going moonblind was a thing, though cataracs seemed to look awful similar. But oracles got special passes; at least, that's what she told herself, tracing the soft grey shapes against the shining white canvas. Even the moon grew old - Antigone could only hope she'd be as beautiful when she did. (Though growing old didn't excite her in the least bit, no way.) Quietly, she dropped her head to the lake, lapping her fill until her throat burned icy cold. She didn't rest to her belly or lean back on her hips. Instead, she stood solid, dark face turned skyward.

!

None of his questions had been answered during his visit to Ryujin, but all his concerns had been eased. He didn't yet know whether he shared Asterr's daughters, but regardless of the truth they would be safe. They had an entire pack to back them up and the girls even had their own full time father, it seemed, which gave Damien some sort of relief. He hadn't asked, but he understood the probability of Ukko being one of those "others" with whom Asterr had shared her body, and there was still no way to deny his own claim to the hatchlings.

But those questions still haunted him, and the fear of failing to be a good father, like his own, to the Draconid girls should he turn out to be their progenitor. He could not stay, not forever, and sooner than he'd wanted he realized he needed to go back home, to the dark of Blackfeather Woods.

He trotter down the mountain, gaining some time before the night caught him offguard. But still, the dark prince found himself as far as the great lake from home when the dark night fell upon him. He believed he could reach the borders of the dark woods before midnight if he kept a good pace, but stopped to sate a painful thirst with big gulps of cold water before continuing. He allowed his eyes to close while drinking, but glanced around him warily when he lifted his head just to be sure he was alone.

He wasn't

Black, snow-peppered fur and slender body. She was a gargoyle as her golden eyes stared intensely at the bright moon above, and Damien could not resist but feel a pull towards her when he realized this. He didn't fight it, allowing his paws to take him closer to her with slow, silent moves, only stopping not to disturb her concentration. And like her, the young shadow stood still, glaring at her curiously from a safe distance, not minding the distraction from his journey. But the world had other plans for that night, and the dark creature sprinted away from Damien upon seeing him. She, beautiful, was perhaps not meant to meet the dark prince just yet, and so she left him there, standing like a fool as he allowed her to slip through.