May 24, 2018, 02:18 AM
The hunt was not his.
While the waxen stranger sought to overtake the fragile lapin prey, the starchaser did not know that he shared the lagoon with another. Whilst starlight danced along the wisps of his swarthy back and shoulders, the nimbus sauntered along; jagged, prowling. The diminished sunlight in his gaze swept across the water like a fine-tooth comb. There was almost peace to be found. Were it not for the reapers who followed closely at his heel, he would have vanished into the depths and made a home amongst the subaqueous foliage.
Freshly satisfied of the aching in his belly, the swarthy starchaser turned to circle the outside of the ewer. Life, as it so often did, had found a way to steal into the washbowl. There was a fresh scoring of fowl – the slight indentation as their clawed feet scrabbled against the grainy sands – and a more recent spread of predatory pawprints. It had been several hours prior to his passing, but their mark on the shore was evidence of life and all things distinctly savage. Even as the dark nimbus passed, he saw the trail of his own kin. The wolves had been there too.
Notched, and damaged as he was, Orion roamed with the confidence of a galactic huntsman. Each stride that pulled him further from the clutch of the Mal’um was a stride that bolstered the credence of his spirit. It was in this state of heightened tenacity that he saw the phantasm being.
It took the shape of a huntress – a wolf – seeking to find that which she had lost. The looming wraith was hobbled at the sight of her. He hunkered himself toward the cool possession of the earthen floor, instinct reminding him to protect himself before all else. The nimbus was unnerved by the sight of her lurid chassis; even the salient gleam of her roseate stare did little to pacify the wendigo. Perchance, it was that she resembled his twin sisters. The eerie parallel had taken him aback.
The hunt was not his, but he shared a correlation in harmony with the prey of the watershed; a prudence, a trepidation in the way his aphotic figure lingered for much too long and watched with a luminous, clinquant glower.
While the waxen stranger sought to overtake the fragile lapin prey, the starchaser did not know that he shared the lagoon with another. Whilst starlight danced along the wisps of his swarthy back and shoulders, the nimbus sauntered along; jagged, prowling. The diminished sunlight in his gaze swept across the water like a fine-tooth comb. There was almost peace to be found. Were it not for the reapers who followed closely at his heel, he would have vanished into the depths and made a home amongst the subaqueous foliage.
Freshly satisfied of the aching in his belly, the swarthy starchaser turned to circle the outside of the ewer. Life, as it so often did, had found a way to steal into the washbowl. There was a fresh scoring of fowl – the slight indentation as their clawed feet scrabbled against the grainy sands – and a more recent spread of predatory pawprints. It had been several hours prior to his passing, but their mark on the shore was evidence of life and all things distinctly savage. Even as the dark nimbus passed, he saw the trail of his own kin. The wolves had been there too.
Notched, and damaged as he was, Orion roamed with the confidence of a galactic huntsman. Each stride that pulled him further from the clutch of the Mal’um was a stride that bolstered the credence of his spirit. It was in this state of heightened tenacity that he saw the phantasm being.
It took the shape of a huntress – a wolf – seeking to find that which she had lost. The looming wraith was hobbled at the sight of her. He hunkered himself toward the cool possession of the earthen floor, instinct reminding him to protect himself before all else. The nimbus was unnerved by the sight of her lurid chassis; even the salient gleam of her roseate stare did little to pacify the wendigo. Perchance, it was that she resembled his twin sisters. The eerie parallel had taken him aback.
The hunt was not his, but he shared a correlation in harmony with the prey of the watershed; a prudence, a trepidation in the way his aphotic figure lingered for much too long and watched with a luminous, clinquant glower.
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Messages In This Thread
you are a child of the cosmos, and ruler of the skies - by Orion - May 18, 2018, 01:15 AM
RE: you are a child of the cosmos, and ruler of the skies - by Evening - May 21, 2018, 07:50 PM
RE: you are a child of the cosmos, and ruler of the skies - by Orion - May 24, 2018, 02:18 AM
RE: you are a child of the cosmos, and ruler of the skies - by Evening - May 24, 2018, 11:34 AM
RE: you are a child of the cosmos, and ruler of the skies - by Orion - May 25, 2018, 01:05 AM
RE: you are a child of the cosmos, and ruler of the skies - by Evening - May 25, 2018, 09:10 PM