✮ / : infantile triumph sluggishly whispers through her veins. the success of her daring attempt has her riding high on endorphins.

it all started with a honeyed gaze far too filled to the brim with anything other than hunger. exodus had long ago thought that curiosity fled the traces of her leaning body. apparently, it was not the case to be.

the orchestra of infinitely powerful need and inclination had since then more firmly settled into her hollow bones. connected to her body and united her as one to the cause. she longs to give herself wholly, completely over to the overwhelming cause of instinct. it shall guide her quite nicely, she thinks. far better than faulty, raw and powerful emotions that have woven itself into the everyday life of the other animals beside her. far more trusty than the flimsy, weak morals she does not know exist. a concept she will never have a grasp upon. the savage child does not think she wants it, anyways.

and she cannot get rid of the disturbance that roils in her chest whenever she spots the intelligent, aware sheen to the sentient eyes of the creatures around her. like they know something that she doesn't. she does not know how or why or what, but it inspires something within her. it makes her itch with curiosities she wants to unearth. curiosities that she would uncover and hoard to herself, only to herself.

she has grown used to it, but at the same time she hasn't. her chest aches, and oh does it, with the need to explore and conquer with a cruel vehemence. it stirs inside her and shakes her to her core. but she is built to accept it. cannot do anything but welcome more and more of the brutish nature that she and her ilk were born to inherit, and would never resist. the brutish, feral nature that has always been lurking in them her all along. the brutish nature that has long ago dominated ament.

the barbaric thing has discovered the entrance to their camp. has slipped past smooth, gilded canyon walls of orange and rose to press her scaled feet to the cool slab of stone beneath. she has traveled the bridge in the rose hall overlooking the cold, calm and impossibly clear crystal waters beneath. she smells the rosebloods by. their scent is strongest here. she lays in wait by the lip of the rosehall, shrouded in the shadows she can find, a piercing animalistic gaze locked onto the doors that will never open for her. not of their own will, anyways.

she has grown used enough to the presence of unorthodox animals-- of strange prey to be daunted by the idea of heading into the metaphorical lion’s den. the maleficent utahraptor has no desire to grow closer to them, only aspiring to infiltrate their place of safehaven to satisfy and quench this curious, growing thirst in her gut. she is foolish, and she has no fear of them. why should she?

the dinosaur watches until one of them leaves; exits from their camp and prompting the opening of the doors. a brief, split second is all she needs. like a flash, she rushes into the ruins, kicking up dust behind her and quickly disappearing into the open wound that were the camp doors, leading to the belly of their underground fortress.

inside is a whole other world.

the warrior walks-- saunters freely into hidden world. satisfaction laces through her veins. a feeling she has found intimacy with, and trots through the place as if her pack owns it. she really thinks she does.

exodus snaps daringly at those who get close. for her age, she is no less a growing menace. she already poses a suitable threat towards the domestic creatures of this place, and even a little higher, still.

for all of her intelligence and craftiness, she does not think like them but all of this-- yes, all they have should belong to the pack. to her. it is nothing against them. it is but mere fact. an undeniable truth that she knows to be right, because instinct lovingly tells her so.

her eyes cannot admire or appreciate the pleasing beauty or wonder of this ancient cavern, but her eyes trace the hieroglyphs and images carved into limestone. she sniffs at a vase, and then whacks it over with a careless tail as she moves past.

exodus snaps eagerly, greedily at a sausage left unsupervised on the dining table of the great hall. the tender meat makes her mouth salivate. shouldn't she reward herself for this clever infiltration? she does need sustenance for her expanding body, does she not? she soon greedily gulps that down, and spends little time savoring it, as tantalizing as the seasoned flesh (a new experience) may be. there is more to explore. there is no time to waste.

/ tldr; exo snuck into camp and has finished eating a sausage. she is reasonable if not a little hostile/testy if needed, but in a good mood after eating. feel to approach. dont feel pressured to match muse <3

© ceilidh