Mature Content Warning
This thread has been marked as mature. By reading and/or participating in this thread, you acknowledge that you are of age or have permission from your parents to do so.The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: gore, animal death, body horror, general fuckedupness and delulu
wake up, athalia.
the girl's eyes snap open to see burning amber, whisked up in a chain of smoke tendrils. it was so late. what did mother want now?
she pads outside to feel the coolness of the air, the grass crunching beneath her feet. it feels as though there are twice as many stars as there normally are. mother is gentle, kind; she kisses the top of athalia's head and leads her out into the shade of the mountaintops.
i have brought you here because you have a job to do, mother says. you do not want to disappoint me again, do you?
athalia's lip trembles.
good.
there is a rabbit emerging from a nest a few yards ahead, and the beargirl's blurry gaze focuses hard on the lumpy shadow as it hops further from safety and closer to her. a smile is etched onto the face of mother with long, spiny teeth poking from betwixt her jaws. don't you want to know what a beating heart looks like?
the pupils dilate.
though unsteady, athalia lumbers in a mad dash just quick enough to seize it by the foot; its loud howl of panic fills the crooning silence. athalia's jaws crush down on bone, and it breaks with a loud, satisfying sound. but the rabbit is still alive, very much so.
slowly, athalia begins to slice down the middle of the now immobilized creature. a visceral scene of scarlet now coats the ground. she laps at the fat and muscle and bone, but not to eat — to learn, to taste. everything remains intact beyond the unnaturally clean slice. she can see the large, pulsating muscle, she watches as the lungs fill and deflate; and she especially notices when it slogs from an erratic, deranged high-pulse to a devastating slowness.
by the time the rabbit is dead, mother is gone, and now she is left alone with what she has done.
the girl's eyes snap open to see burning amber, whisked up in a chain of smoke tendrils. it was so late. what did mother want now?
she pads outside to feel the coolness of the air, the grass crunching beneath her feet. it feels as though there are twice as many stars as there normally are. mother is gentle, kind; she kisses the top of athalia's head and leads her out into the shade of the mountaintops.
i have brought you here because you have a job to do, mother says. you do not want to disappoint me again, do you?
athalia's lip trembles.
no.
good.
there is a rabbit emerging from a nest a few yards ahead, and the beargirl's blurry gaze focuses hard on the lumpy shadow as it hops further from safety and closer to her. a smile is etched onto the face of mother with long, spiny teeth poking from betwixt her jaws. don't you want to know what a beating heart looks like?
the pupils dilate.
yes.
though unsteady, athalia lumbers in a mad dash just quick enough to seize it by the foot; its loud howl of panic fills the crooning silence. athalia's jaws crush down on bone, and it breaks with a loud, satisfying sound. but the rabbit is still alive, very much so.
slowly, athalia begins to slice down the middle of the now immobilized creature. a visceral scene of scarlet now coats the ground. she laps at the fat and muscle and bone, but not to eat — to learn, to taste. everything remains intact beyond the unnaturally clean slice. she can see the large, pulsating muscle, she watches as the lungs fill and deflate; and she especially notices when it slogs from an erratic, deranged high-pulse to a devastating slowness.
by the time the rabbit is dead, mother is gone, and now she is left alone with what she has done.
April 11, 2024, 08:00 PM
after they left the rise, sobeille headed south. there was so much of the world to see, and she a thirsty adventurer that drank the sights and the smells with naive fascination.
she told chani she would not stray far, but that was a lie. a path brought her down through the valley, into a rolling meadow that ended abruptly with a fortress of stone. it reminded her of ankyra sound; of the teeth-stone that hung down from the cavern in an eternal grimace.
the entry to bearclaw may have been the extent of sobeille's journey, if she did not recognize a scent within it. intrigued, the girl set up a small howl and then invited herself in -- a risky endeavor, but one a girl without boundaries was confident would not be received poorly.
she walked down the redpath, a small furskin with the bones she'd discovered along the way held in her jaws. nearby, something screamed -- and when its voice faded, sobeille sensed an echo that would not go away.
sobeille was drawn to it.
she came upon a dark girl with a rousing blaze of sienna on her back. before her was the clinically sliced body of a hare. its fur was wet with matted blood, the viscera within exposed. sobeille could sense the thudding heartbeat as it faded, reverberating in consecutively longer pulses until it stilled forever.
she looked upon the small organ and marveled its intricacies. for something so vital, it was hideous -- rubber-grey and mauve red, with veins and arteries wrapped around it like choking vines.
she told chani she would not stray far, but that was a lie. a path brought her down through the valley, into a rolling meadow that ended abruptly with a fortress of stone. it reminded her of ankyra sound; of the teeth-stone that hung down from the cavern in an eternal grimace.
the entry to bearclaw may have been the extent of sobeille's journey, if she did not recognize a scent within it. intrigued, the girl set up a small howl and then invited herself in -- a risky endeavor, but one a girl without boundaries was confident would not be received poorly.
she walked down the redpath, a small furskin with the bones she'd discovered along the way held in her jaws. nearby, something screamed -- and when its voice faded, sobeille sensed an echo that would not go away.
sobeille was drawn to it.
she came upon a dark girl with a rousing blaze of sienna on her back. before her was the clinically sliced body of a hare. its fur was wet with matted blood, the viscera within exposed. sobeille could sense the thudding heartbeat as it faded, reverberating in consecutively longer pulses until it stilled forever.
she looked upon the small organ and marveled its intricacies. for something so vital, it was hideous -- rubber-grey and mauve red, with veins and arteries wrapped around it like choking vines.
you ever wonder what your own heartbeat looks like?sobeille asks of the feral child -- unafraid, and sensing a kinship that went deeper than simply blood.
April 11, 2024, 08:49 PM
OMG
when one leaves, another arrives.
flesh is stuck between athalia's teeth, the broad, feverish features painted in a rainbow of visceral reds and blacks. she does not look up, not at first.
she has never seen this girl before. when she finally meets the dandelion eyes, she thinks she sees the dark apparition of her mother — but it is not her, not her at all. the voice, the body, even the face is different.
this was certainly new.
she sits silently, corpse drawn up between her willowy forelimbs, awaiting guidance that will not come from an apparition that is not an apparition at all, but a girl intruding upon her territory.
flesh is stuck between athalia's teeth, the broad, feverish features painted in a rainbow of visceral reds and blacks. she does not look up, not at first.
yes.
she has never seen this girl before. when she finally meets the dandelion eyes, she thinks she sees the dark apparition of her mother — but it is not her, not her at all. the voice, the body, even the face is different.
this was certainly new.
she sits silently, corpse drawn up between her willowy forelimbs, awaiting guidance that will not come from an apparition that is not an apparition at all, but a girl intruding upon her territory.
April 11, 2024, 08:55 PM
sobeille should be afraid. she'd done something terrible; she'd violated one of the most sacred tenets in wolfdom.
but she does not fear tradition, nor respect it.
the feral girl does not look up -- at least not right away. sobeille had time to place down her furskin, the sundry bones rattling onto their heavy-sided faces as she gently laid the ensemble down.
she looked to the rabbit with his chest exposed to the world.
and then she looked at the girl with the disunited aura and cast her bones.
but she does not fear tradition, nor respect it.
the feral girl does not look up -- at least not right away. sobeille had time to place down her furskin, the sundry bones rattling onto their heavy-sided faces as she gently laid the ensemble down.
she looked to the rabbit with his chest exposed to the world.
and then she looked at the girl with the disunited aura and cast her bones.
me too.
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