10-23-2018, 07:48 PM
The concept of death is not as abstract, even he the near senseless- the savage can understand it in its simplicity. The venandi live alongside it, the clans- the predators, the prey abide to it. Kill to live, or live to be killed. Even predator can fall to the side, and his sisters and him alike have seen this so. Predator’s of pride and glory- of keen intellect and brute force and might falling beside, falling limp and complacent- falling prey to time, to weakness. But his sister’s, his mother and him- are something else, something better. Apex predators of the food chain- unkillable and untouchable. Everything fears them- or soon enough will. Everything will bow to their might, if not by nature, than pure strike divinity inside them all. It is a concept- an idea that all of his siblings share with him. They all look to mother and see eternal- endless void of a milenia that seem to cast shadow’ along their mother, and as they all look- they all promise, maybe at different times, but all the same.
this is ours. He is eternal, and we will be there alongside him for it.
Lucifer was not part of the plan, but back then- curled inside his own little world feasting on the essence that he swam in sense birth- he had very little plans but to eat. His own dna does not know what to make of it, make of this vast eternal thing he looked towards who offered them so easily a means to live. Now, a little older- a lot older; ament see’s this as a debt that will never be rectified. A life debt that his sister’s all agree. Lucifer will protect them- and in turn they will do the same. The relationship is mutual, beneficial and yet…
And yet there is a fondness there. There is respect that no one but his sister’s should have- that his pack deserves. Somehow the void-mother has settled into the russet youth’s savage heart. It vibrates in his chest now in the same warmth that sends a stillness into his limbs and a feeling he knows not the name of- he calls it home. Warm and fuzzy, it’s preening his mother’s soft mane when he shifts- and seeing the creature so small and vulnerable in comparison to the night sky he can now encompass- it is a tender terrible thing, that ament protects savagely, they all do- they all cherish it. It is unspoken, not because it is a secret but it doesn't need to be said. There is no word for it- this fondness that he has, so he calls luciferus mother and feels a bubble in satisfaction the way that the eldritch seems to brighten in the regard, the respect.
THe brush of Exodus is playful, and ament let’s himself sway towards the other to match it. He ducks- butting his nose along side her flank and ruffling all the feather’s in its place when she walks past him to get to mother. Silent rebellion settle in his eyes as he watches the other’s reaction with a lazy-happy glint. Knowing how long exodus sends keeping her feather’s sleek and shiny- it will no doubt perturb her to see a single side of them ruffled.
A soft breath of chilly air and a cold, cold nose presses against his crest. He tilts his head, rather than back away he exposes his neck- embracing the gentle bud against his neck. A low chitter sounds more alike to a content purr of a cat from his throat. It rattles his chest like a drum- he does not suppress a shiver at the cold, but the comfort of the meaning behind it is so much more rewarding than the distaste for colder weather. He let’s out a small chuff before Luciferus retreats, trying to mimic the same thing to his retreating form as he does to mimic the same to exodus.
Virgo goes to brush past the both of them, and ament attempts to do the same soft gentle chuff along her before she brushes past. He is purring now, soft boneless heap of comfort that is unfitting is usual brutality. But here ament has always been soft and pliant against them both in this rigid structure of dynamics their dna gave them. They in turn are soft and kind, trusting in a way that ament can exploit even when trust tells him it is wrong, he cannot forgo the appeal to the power, even as the lowest. He does not follow it like his sister’s, not unless he has a purpose- a reason, and even then it is only with his sister’s willing consent.
Flying is a concept that ament knows by the flutter of birds. When little- snapping his teeth angrily at their retreat, only to grasp tail feathers or worse- open air. Flying brings with it the thrill of hunting - and the prospect of being able to do so himself- of him learning how to makes the soft purring stop in a sharp agreeing note of “yes!” He does not pause for his sister’s consent here, confident they all feel the same, and even then- even then. Ament is willing to go alone, as he does with his savagery and discoveries and curiosities.
this is ours. He is eternal, and we will be there alongside him for it.
Lucifer was not part of the plan, but back then- curled inside his own little world feasting on the essence that he swam in sense birth- he had very little plans but to eat. His own dna does not know what to make of it, make of this vast eternal thing he looked towards who offered them so easily a means to live. Now, a little older- a lot older; ament see’s this as a debt that will never be rectified. A life debt that his sister’s all agree. Lucifer will protect them- and in turn they will do the same. The relationship is mutual, beneficial and yet…
And yet there is a fondness there. There is respect that no one but his sister’s should have- that his pack deserves. Somehow the void-mother has settled into the russet youth’s savage heart. It vibrates in his chest now in the same warmth that sends a stillness into his limbs and a feeling he knows not the name of- he calls it home. Warm and fuzzy, it’s preening his mother’s soft mane when he shifts- and seeing the creature so small and vulnerable in comparison to the night sky he can now encompass- it is a tender terrible thing, that ament protects savagely, they all do- they all cherish it. It is unspoken, not because it is a secret but it doesn't need to be said. There is no word for it- this fondness that he has, so he calls luciferus mother and feels a bubble in satisfaction the way that the eldritch seems to brighten in the regard, the respect.
THe brush of Exodus is playful, and ament let’s himself sway towards the other to match it. He ducks- butting his nose along side her flank and ruffling all the feather’s in its place when she walks past him to get to mother. Silent rebellion settle in his eyes as he watches the other’s reaction with a lazy-happy glint. Knowing how long exodus sends keeping her feather’s sleek and shiny- it will no doubt perturb her to see a single side of them ruffled.
A soft breath of chilly air and a cold, cold nose presses against his crest. He tilts his head, rather than back away he exposes his neck- embracing the gentle bud against his neck. A low chitter sounds more alike to a content purr of a cat from his throat. It rattles his chest like a drum- he does not suppress a shiver at the cold, but the comfort of the meaning behind it is so much more rewarding than the distaste for colder weather. He let’s out a small chuff before Luciferus retreats, trying to mimic the same thing to his retreating form as he does to mimic the same to exodus.
Virgo goes to brush past the both of them, and ament attempts to do the same soft gentle chuff along her before she brushes past. He is purring now, soft boneless heap of comfort that is unfitting is usual brutality. But here ament has always been soft and pliant against them both in this rigid structure of dynamics their dna gave them. They in turn are soft and kind, trusting in a way that ament can exploit even when trust tells him it is wrong, he cannot forgo the appeal to the power, even as the lowest. He does not follow it like his sister’s, not unless he has a purpose- a reason, and even then it is only with his sister’s willing consent.
Flying is a concept that ament knows by the flutter of birds. When little- snapping his teeth angrily at their retreat, only to grasp tail feathers or worse- open air. Flying brings with it the thrill of hunting - and the prospect of being able to do so himself- of him learning how to makes the soft purring stop in a sharp agreeing note of “yes!” He does not pause for his sister’s consent here, confident they all feel the same, and even then- even then. Ament is willing to go alone, as he does with his savagery and discoveries and curiosities.
ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛᴏᴏᴛʜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʟᴀᴡ ᴀɴᴅ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅʏ ᴍᴀᴡ // ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴄᴀᴛᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ- ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪʟʟ ʀᴇɢʀᴇᴛ ɪᴛ.
made by wisker
I LET THE ANGER GO—
AND MOTHER NATURE FOUND IT'S PLACE
AND MOTHER NATURE FOUND IT'S PLACE