PAINT THE SKY — return

[Whisper]

Mads has never truly died before. Amalgamations of nightmares and dreams alike, tell a different tale, of drowning drowning drowning. Of wax melting scorching skin red, of malevolent gods breathing spite into their bones and welcoming them home in it's depths. But water is not a sentient thing, gods do not lurk in the depths for some creature with wax wings to fall, Madosa has never walked on land until the last few days, when they first came ashore the typhoon.

Mads has no grasp on immortality or mortality. The rapid waters of the sea hold danger, so much danger - but Mad has been lucky in their life to never truly seen much of it. A shark's curious teeth are quick to dispel with a few moments of holding their noses. A tangle in seaweeds cut away with wicked claws from the paw. They were naive, to this world of danger and finality. Of gods and mortals, the jaguar was the perfect mix of naive and knowledgeable.

Maybe they just refused to think of it, death is a crossing that they will pass eventually, living as a predator- even in the sea they are not ignorant of it, just unwilling to amuse it. Prey do not think much of their demise between predators teeth, they seek to live a fulfilling life. SO that when Death grasp their heart, they welcome to inevitable end with the satisfaction of living a full life. Madosa wants to live, and when the end comes, they will welcome it or fight it to their dying breaths.

Everyone in the Typhoon is a stranger to them, even the walking shadow of Lucifer. This place is so strange so new, that Mad's definition of normal hasn't been defined yet. The taste of flame on his tongue does the Jaguar spot the group. Luceifurs seems to hold back, a somber tone etching into his frame hesitant to the one collapsed on the sands. The newcomer passes lucifer with a slightly concerned, worried look before they follow Deldratch in greeting the sandy demon.

"Need some help?"