cantlos, the first moon · claiming howl

Bade'un!

She follows him hungrily. Perhaps he knows, perhaps he does not. She is her fathers little guardian. But when he does see her, she lets him; and then she skitters off as he comes to her. Her control.
xxxxIt was a strange night. As Jinx dreamed, Clarice heard. Not the dream, but voices. Her voices. (Jinx. She has seen.) Her eyes open, the coolness of them downright frigid. She sees, she whispers, As I... (She has seen not as you do see, as you do hear.) She relaxes. Clarice coveted her Loa, selfishly so. But she warms to the idea quickly enough that Jinx might hear them, too; they could force others to see, to hear, to know and to fear.
xxxxTo know and to fear!
xxxxA sweet voice enters her head then, (let me i—) NO! She snarls, rising to all fours, hunched like an irate cat that had been bothered and would tolerate it no longer, LEAVE ME! Came her disrespectful holler, screeching to Atka who would attempt to imprint herself with her. Do not speak to me as though I could ever be yours— And to any listeners, it would sound as deranged as it looked. She was alone. It was not often she gave way to speaking to them audibly; she could think to them, now. But there was something in the air. Something making her snap...
xxxxClarice hears a howl in the air. But with that howl comes a strange screech, a screeching of which Clarice had never heard before. She knew what her animal was. Beside her it came into a form that ought to be tangible, and she hears its deep voice, deeper than many of her spirits. (Listen.) She bends to it, and its will; her ears cup forward as she listens so very hard, obedient to the Loa always. I cannot— her exasperation is met with physical pain as the spirit thrusts itself into her, and she lets out a despairing cry as it tears into her mind, and she hears again the screeching of some avian being, but...
xxxxChange, she murmurs darkly, unwilling. I am yours, Lynx, and I am for Sos, (Do not be ignorant, pathetic cub. His power grows.)
xxxxShe withers at his voice. The only beings that could ever reprimand her were the ones that did not exist, and how they did! (Bloom.)
xxxxHe throws himself into her again, and this time, she is possessed; it is a strangled cry that comes from her, and she wonders if the Lynx makes her sound stronger than she truly is. She was a pathetic fighter. She would poison her targets before they had half the chance to tango with her; or she would run. Sometimes she would fight until she was near-dead, hysteria induced.
xxxxBut there was no fighting them. And soon, she was willing to sing, and it was as though there had been no confrontation within her at all. Her place, here.