Silvertip Mountain everything is gorgeous once it's gone

the forgetting was painless, the easiest thing thus far in asperas's short life. in place of the memory of grandeur, the delusions of its continued existence, the unchild found aspirations grounded in reality. wickedness far more achievable in this life.
today, the first of many accomplishments: blood. a gift for the creator of her earthly shell; a gift fashioned of blood and terror! tiny, squeaky terror, to be specific. asperas sought @Astara with a proud strutting gait, carrying the limp mangled carcass of a rat. a sloppy kill, and if anyone bothered to inquire after the time it had taken to accomplish such a feat, the unchild's mouth would fill with shameless lies. none needed to know that it had taken them hours to fell the little thing. long, unpleasant hours for asperas, but surely the rat was having a far worse day.

whenever you have time <3

i am SO sorry i never saw this. i just realized i had a bunch of tag PMs yesterday :(

there was new independence in her children, and for astara that solitude was much needed. she was different now than she had been her first whelping; she loved these two no less, yet her helicoptering days were over.

instead astara caught snatches of sleep here and there while her children roved the endless troves of stone and grass. today, she had woken to find asperas' scent dwindling -- trailing after it in an unhurried fashion quite unlike her (for one never knew these days how long her stamina might last her), astara slowed as asperas drew into vision.

her unchild (perhaps even her magnum opus, though she did not yet know it) held between needleteeth a prize of blood; perhaps even, the first of many kills in asperas' long and chilling life earthside. astara drew close with a low wag of her tail, head ever so slightly askance in quizzical interest.

unexpectedly, the caretaker met asperas halfway. pleasure swept her tail back and forth, languid and sweeping in its motion, and she proudly displayed the mangled critter before depositing it at astara's paws. the unchild stepped back with expectant eyes, demeanor strange and sharp even in this rare display of something like normal childhood. there was a desire to please the birthgiver, yes, but more than that, an expectance that she would be pleased — impressed, even. wasn't this what asperas had been brought into the world for?

no worries <333

the bear would agree -- if there was one thing the unchild had been brought forth into this world for, it was to kill in the name of the bear. astara knew this much; she might never be capable of articulating it, but she knew.

she accepted the gift carefully, inspecting its mangled form with a solemnity that rarely escaped her these days. yes -- this little thing had a cunningly bright future ahead of it. it was a shame, she thought bitterly, that she might not be around to witness it.

this child -- and avicus, aventus, and apophis too - were to be her last legacy before she too was swept from time.

astara seized the little carcass between her teeth, a sickening crunch sounding as she snapped brittle bone between cleaving molars.