07-20-2020, 09:18 PM
[align=center][glow=grey,2,300] and what's wrong with being confident?[/glow]
Hebi had roots in the mountains, his first life: his only true life was in such a high elevation, floating- soaring between peaks. Dipping down into the sea’s his birthland overloocked. Nomad was a forging concept to him, something that would never quite fit the jaguar. He was made to be tied down, his loyalties were currently loose, and listless, and it unsettled them. Moving around constantly without direction, without purpose made the exile feel all the more weary his children did not ease the snake tamer. He was a father, he had a duty to them. To provide them a home, a stable one if nothing else.
The simulacra before him stood imposing, and hebi, wings down, children all curled tight along his spine slumbered. Hebi never felt so alone, so vacant, so blissfully alone, standing and watching from the border as the sun rose above the mountains. It was beautiful.
To any person to stumble across him, he was anything but. Heavily scared, muscled, and serpents coiled along him. The largest draped along his neck and wrapped around his wing. three more tucked in the curvatures of his wings. A small satchel, and along it’s strap pieces of jasper knifes, glimmering gems streaked with blood. A book strapped down just under the bag. Near his end- where a tail should be was tied in a leather cord, four well maintained tails. Each from different animals. A tom-cat, a cougar, a monkey, and a husky. All well maintained.
But his expression was one of peace of a bone deep tired finally coming home.
-- but rather, a whisper
hebi . winged black panther . bio