03-18-2019, 01:36 PM
— Ament aches for comfort, for something safe in a world now screaming of wrong. Ament has always defaulted to his own instincts, while his sisters always chose to think lesser of animals who didn't- ament had always seen worth in their curiosity. Now, now the feeling is more than he can bear. Instincts calling him home, telling him to flee and lick his wounds. Ament is stricken with them, an assault that shows in his features.
Feathers rumpled, uncleaned, dust and blood crusted along the talons at his feet, streaked through his muzzle. Old scars settled throughout parts of him, the one along his snout just a few days away from getting infected, open-bleeding-raw. This stranger seems to take note, or maybe it is in the tranquil brother's nature to offer aid to the dying. Ament feels his own posture relax slowly, muscles releasing the wire-tight tension of before.
Void-mother did not intentionally leave him, he knows the taste of grief that followed him; though Ament never could understand it before. Now without his sister's there is a part of him missing. Something that his keeper had stripped away at him in their time in his head. The memories are filled with static, the memories feel wrong.
(he wants to return, but he isn't sure the static will let him. doesn't understand why he feels he would hurt them, if he saw them then.)
The chain rattles with the moment as he slowly lifts himself from his crouch. Something in him eases, this- this stranger knows mother. Knows the Venadi, but he isn't asking him to return to them, he's telling him he can stay here.
"why?"
Curious creatures are always the quickest to endeavor themselves to him. Small tabbies and young predators still learning how to hunt. Even if Mori- the dubed silent brother of his, was unnerving in his patience. In his calm. Something Ament once found comfort in, not being prodded for answers, now he saw the caculative edge to. Now he saw intention and knew hurt.
Wrongwrongwrong.
Static was buzzing in his head again, the all to familiar feeling of being watched making his logic failing and instincts screaming. Large dew claws tap to the ground at the silence of waiting. The specter- makes an appearance but makes no move to talk to him. He feels his frustrations rise. Wraith so easy to him when he knew nothing else. Anger or static.
The other makes a geasture to the collar and Ament feels his lips curl. A flash of teeth is universal and he bends down lower to keep the chain closer to the ground. Easier to defend. - his.
Feathers rumpled, uncleaned, dust and blood crusted along the talons at his feet, streaked through his muzzle. Old scars settled throughout parts of him, the one along his snout just a few days away from getting infected, open-bleeding-raw. This stranger seems to take note, or maybe it is in the tranquil brother's nature to offer aid to the dying. Ament feels his own posture relax slowly, muscles releasing the wire-tight tension of before.
Void-mother did not intentionally leave him, he knows the taste of grief that followed him; though Ament never could understand it before. Now without his sister's there is a part of him missing. Something that his keeper had stripped away at him in their time in his head. The memories are filled with static, the memories feel wrong.
(he wants to return, but he isn't sure the static will let him. doesn't understand why he feels he would hurt them, if he saw them then.)
The chain rattles with the moment as he slowly lifts himself from his crouch. Something in him eases, this- this stranger knows mother. Knows the Venadi, but he isn't asking him to return to them, he's telling him he can stay here.
"why?"
Curious creatures are always the quickest to endeavor themselves to him. Small tabbies and young predators still learning how to hunt. Even if Mori- the dubed silent brother of his, was unnerving in his patience. In his calm. Something Ament once found comfort in, not being prodded for answers, now he saw the caculative edge to. Now he saw intention and knew hurt.
Wrongwrongwrong.
Static was buzzing in his head again, the all to familiar feeling of being watched making his logic failing and instincts screaming. Large dew claws tap to the ground at the silence of waiting. The specter- makes an appearance but makes no move to talk to him. He feels his frustrations rise. Wraith so easy to him when he knew nothing else. Anger or static.
The other makes a geasture to the collar and Ament feels his lips curl. A flash of teeth is universal and he bends down lower to keep the chain closer to the ground. Easier to defend. - his.
made by wisker
I LET THE ANGER GO—
AND MOTHER NATURE FOUND IT'S PLACE
AND MOTHER NATURE FOUND IT'S PLACE