10-16-2018, 09:25 PM
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✮. I AM A ROCK ON TOP OF THE SAND /
nothing lasts forever. exodus knows this like the thick tang of blood on her tongue and a banished breath hanging heavy in the hollow of her throat her throat after a kill. knows it like the absolute, final halt of a prey creature's beating, stuttering heart as it dies on it's fuel and fails to start again.
she knows there's an end to everything.
lucifer? intimate with the concept of finiality even more so than her. he has lived an eternity-- a millenia of lifetimes, built on the back of seamless divinity, bubbling beneath dark skin. the stars knew of him before the constellations even had names.
lucifer too, knows that nothing last forever-- a simple truth that compelles the god to savor the time of peace with his offspring.
everything comes to an end.
exodus knows this. she thinks. considers.
everything but Us.
her pack will be unparalleled. she will make sure of it.
---
exodus has always been earthbound.
the sky does not call to her like it calls to mother-- the vast empty, blueness of it all.
but mother flies. exodus thinks she should be able to fly as well. just as she is destined to conquer the land, is she not destined for the sky's vast cradle as well?
something about flying makes her gizzard clench, especially when she lifts her amber gaze the harsh expanse of space above her. it is unreachable to her earthly body. one would never dream of touching the velvet clouds for fear of falling-- falling from heights unimaginable.
then again. exodus knows no fear.
her talons clink against the sable, jagged stone with precious friction. with a curvalinear dew claw held carefully above the ground, a cutting body making an ascent to a throne of darkness. she has followed her brother here.
where he goes, she goes.
the sky is mother's domain. she has seen the endless void fluttering up to the air's fringes like the birds she has come to known as prey. but mother is not prey, nor is she soft like the birds she seamlessly snatches from the sky's womb before they can barely lift from the ground.
she tastes the wind, sharp and pleasing in her nostrils and on her fat tongue. breathes gingerly, pulling precious life essence down and down into her trachea and sucking it down to her lungs where her wild heart beats lackadaisically.
she walks until she can feel ament beside her. pushes into his warmth with all the tenderness unbefitting of a lethal predator of her stature. cheeky light glistening in her eyes, she's chase the brief sensation of contact before bringing a reverent gaze, intense like wildfire to the immense dragon; their mother, a symbol of celestial strength. exodus says nothing with her uncivilized tongue. does not need to, not when ament's inquiry has lisped from his lips.
whenever she sees the gentle darkness, her chest sings with brightness and warmth. aches with it, in fact. she cannot help it when it burbles beneath the skin, unstoppable, and fights her callous barbaric brain. for all of her dna dictated by the ingenius strength of instinct, she cannot stop the rare, miniscule breaches of sentiment, reserved only for her family.
✮. I AM A ROCK ON TOP OF THE SAND /
nothing lasts forever. exodus knows this like the thick tang of blood on her tongue and a banished breath hanging heavy in the hollow of her throat her throat after a kill. knows it like the absolute, final halt of a prey creature's beating, stuttering heart as it dies on it's fuel and fails to start again.
she knows there's an end to everything.
lucifer? intimate with the concept of finiality even more so than her. he has lived an eternity-- a millenia of lifetimes, built on the back of seamless divinity, bubbling beneath dark skin. the stars knew of him before the constellations even had names.
lucifer too, knows that nothing last forever-- a simple truth that compelles the god to savor the time of peace with his offspring.
everything comes to an end.
exodus knows this. she thinks. considers.
everything but Us.
her pack will be unparalleled. she will make sure of it.
---
exodus has always been earthbound.
the sky does not call to her like it calls to mother-- the vast empty, blueness of it all.
but mother flies. exodus thinks she should be able to fly as well. just as she is destined to conquer the land, is she not destined for the sky's vast cradle as well?
something about flying makes her gizzard clench, especially when she lifts her amber gaze the harsh expanse of space above her. it is unreachable to her earthly body. one would never dream of touching the velvet clouds for fear of falling-- falling from heights unimaginable.
then again. exodus knows no fear.
her talons clink against the sable, jagged stone with precious friction. with a curvalinear dew claw held carefully above the ground, a cutting body making an ascent to a throne of darkness. she has followed her brother here.
where he goes, she goes.
the sky is mother's domain. she has seen the endless void fluttering up to the air's fringes like the birds she has come to known as prey. but mother is not prey, nor is she soft like the birds she seamlessly snatches from the sky's womb before they can barely lift from the ground.
she tastes the wind, sharp and pleasing in her nostrils and on her fat tongue. breathes gingerly, pulling precious life essence down and down into her trachea and sucking it down to her lungs where her wild heart beats lackadaisically.
she walks until she can feel ament beside her. pushes into his warmth with all the tenderness unbefitting of a lethal predator of her stature. cheeky light glistening in her eyes, she's chase the brief sensation of contact before bringing a reverent gaze, intense like wildfire to the immense dragon; their mother, a symbol of celestial strength. exodus says nothing with her uncivilized tongue. does not need to, not when ament's inquiry has lisped from his lips.
whenever she sees the gentle darkness, her chest sings with brightness and warmth. aches with it, in fact. she cannot help it when it burbles beneath the skin, unstoppable, and fights her callous barbaric brain. for all of her dna dictated by the ingenius strength of instinct, she cannot stop the rare, miniscule breaches of sentiment, reserved only for her family.
im like a bull in a china shop
knocking off a knock off .
"cause i got no culture of mine" — exodus — typhoon — feathered raptor — info