08-07-2018, 09:38 AM
[align=center][div style="width: 470px; font-size:7.5pt; font-family:verdana; text-align: justify;line-height: 110%; color:black"][ i'm so sorry this took me so long to get back to, my muse for privates is really fickle ]
It did not matter their origin, be it the angelic beings wreathed in flame and wing one might find within the Catholic religion, or else their counter part in the free floating who seemed drawn back by purpose, given a task they seek to find a conclusion to before they are permitted to pass, never had the child cared much for spirits. An odd thing for one with such peculiar tastes where it came to their personal lessons, the dusty tomes which had come to decorate their living space enough to speak of such. And then what of their own predicament, little more than a vessel for something more.
In more ways then Aita might care to admit they were an oddity all their own, touched by both God and demon before their first breath had passed their lips, and given to another who had found use for their body but not them. With such in mind was it truly surprising to find they cared not for religion nor the aspects of life tied to it, viewing death as an end to be pushed back as long as possible, not some beginning to something more beyond this world.
A breath drawn through the teeth, rasping as it rushed through the spaces, ears slicking back as best they can, stopped briefly by the small horns slow in their growth. For a time they think upon simply ignoring the question, pretending as though their response was for something else, but quickly the thought was brushed aside, the idea of company strangely compelling. To any who knew the child it seemed odd to find they turned a curious gaze towards Temulin, brow furrowed as they looked her over. Something about her tugged upon a faint memory, something about her voice and the way she speaks, unable to be fully covered up even with the rather radical change in body.
Head tilting to the side the child finally allows themself to shift around to better face her, gently resting the piece they had been working on in the sand between them, knife set by their side for it was one of few they had specifically for this work. As of yet unfinished a pentagram was present at the top with two crescent moons to either side slowly taking shape, meant to offer protection though they doubted such for their work wasn't the best, the lines not quite straight for they seemed incapable of keeping their paws steady.
“Jus practicin, not da best but I...” More lingers upon the edge of Aita's tongue but they close their teeth over it, refusing to explain their reasoning for their for such. It seemed all too apparent their family proved a disaster zone, prone to injury to a point it had grown worrying.
It did not matter their origin, be it the angelic beings wreathed in flame and wing one might find within the Catholic religion, or else their counter part in the free floating who seemed drawn back by purpose, given a task they seek to find a conclusion to before they are permitted to pass, never had the child cared much for spirits. An odd thing for one with such peculiar tastes where it came to their personal lessons, the dusty tomes which had come to decorate their living space enough to speak of such. And then what of their own predicament, little more than a vessel for something more.
In more ways then Aita might care to admit they were an oddity all their own, touched by both God and demon before their first breath had passed their lips, and given to another who had found use for their body but not them. With such in mind was it truly surprising to find they cared not for religion nor the aspects of life tied to it, viewing death as an end to be pushed back as long as possible, not some beginning to something more beyond this world.
A breath drawn through the teeth, rasping as it rushed through the spaces, ears slicking back as best they can, stopped briefly by the small horns slow in their growth. For a time they think upon simply ignoring the question, pretending as though their response was for something else, but quickly the thought was brushed aside, the idea of company strangely compelling. To any who knew the child it seemed odd to find they turned a curious gaze towards Temulin, brow furrowed as they looked her over. Something about her tugged upon a faint memory, something about her voice and the way she speaks, unable to be fully covered up even with the rather radical change in body.
Head tilting to the side the child finally allows themself to shift around to better face her, gently resting the piece they had been working on in the sand between them, knife set by their side for it was one of few they had specifically for this work. As of yet unfinished a pentagram was present at the top with two crescent moons to either side slowly taking shape, meant to offer protection though they doubted such for their work wasn't the best, the lines not quite straight for they seemed incapable of keeping their paws steady.
“Jus practicin, not da best but I...” More lingers upon the edge of Aita's tongue but they close their teeth over it, refusing to explain their reasoning for their for such. It seemed all too apparent their family proved a disaster zone, prone to injury to a point it had grown worrying.