Porcupine Ridge seven spider eyes, for every day of the week [mtr.]

for @Tundra <3

Wickedly beguiling.

This was the only way in which the silencer could portray the landscape of the ridge - treacherous peaks clambering desperately toward clouds of ash, rugged slopes of stone slipping from vociferous heights. Heinous both in appearance and nature, so nefariously bewitching. And yet, deep within the graves of rock, life waited to burst - with spring, he could predict the revival of the lakes, the spreading of emerald as plants resumed their steady breathing, and the world would be painted in colour once more.

For now, though, winter had only just begun.

A single diaphanous snowflake burst forth from the monochrome sky, coasting down to settle on the rough surface of his nose. Aries exhaled. The delicate creation was dissolved immediately, as a hot breath coursed through his jowls to escape into the evening’s bitter air, and his lips quirked as though with tainted satisfaction.

This world, in all its meaningless cruelty, was enthralling.

In the passing of no more than a moon or two, he’d been witness to yet another fall of blackfeather - and with it, the death of his littermate (a second starborn of same-blood), and the withering of all that he had grown alongside. Perhaps not peculiarly, his mind and his heart, they lacked solicitude. It was a shame, of course, but he knew from experience that from the falling of one kingdom would come the birth of another. His path, it was coherent, led to a new course, one plunging deep into the unknown.

And so, he continued to scale the unforgiving peaks, smoky figure drifting between shadows of gloom.
 
Tirelessly seeking.