Fairspell Meadow lucifer bleeds ichor

the — god?

or ... mortal? — does it matter?

gives chase to kitsune who wills his long legs to carry him with the speed they were streamlined for. he yearns and silently begs for the moon to embrace him and become his shield. to become the willo'wisp that had begun as a torment from the cubs in the neighboring pack ...only to be twisted into his gift by words of his elders. to be kijo is to be proud. would his ancestors — those bearing the gift and those that did not — be proud of him if they could hear his heart in his chest? not fierce and steady like a wardrum but fluttering wildly and rapidily like a hummingbird's wings? would they be proud of the way he flees the hellhound?

presently, kitsune struggles to find it within himself to care. he only knows he wishes to live and against each aching and shallow draw of breath in his lungs he pushes himself further, faster. blindly. he will suffer whatever consequence that befalls him ...as long as he is still living at the end of this night.