08-20-2019, 11:32 PM
— the sun alights the bog in it's golden light ; ament's reaction is to flinch away . its instinctive , and he doesn't dwell on it as his eyes adjust to the sudden influx of light , the slow rise of the sun means little when one arises from their covered den of moss and roots , of the stench of rot and death to only notice the sun and the fresh contrast in the air ; it is breath taking - choking.
Ament settles along a raised root to preen himself , the chitter of his feathers between his teeth : a focus primarily along his chest and wings . he is drowsy , one of the few nights the venadi had slept through the night instead of hunting or patrolling his tanglewood . preening is a good way to wake up , even without his sisters , without his usual softness , ament is prideful , he is vain of his brown feathers . he keeps to a routine, if only to keep what little stability e can have in a place bursting with activity ; with different things happening during the day , ament must look his best ; or at least get the blood of his last prey out of his feathers .
without his sisters ; without his mother - ament is still venadi , still raptor . without a pack a raptor will surely die , but in this age there are little to compete with unless he were to take on one of the clans or another raptor , and even then - ament will survive ; he survived the lygari , he has survived past having his head cleaved in two , and he still sits next to a clan ; next to curiosities that could do the same thing lygari had : fill his mind , break him - collar him : ament would bend , but he will break free and he would kill them : ament would survive , or he would not . there is no between .
There is no fear in a creature like him ; there is pain that could be wrought : there is anger that could be spurred ; there is wraith ; but ament does not fear death ; he feared speration , he feared living without his pack , but his pack is gone , is no more and still he remains . it is odd , to live past the fear of something crippleing to him , to life after it - it makes him stronger , makes him stronger and yet weaker : without them there is no pack ; no communication . Only him and the curiosities , only him and the clan . The clan that does not understand him and one he does not try to leave either ; he is at an impasse .
a still beast , is a dead beast
so he moves , quick rapid and fluid, he slips from the outer territory the clan claims as theirs and closer towards the center - never too close ; never to encroach enough to gather attention unless someone is out hunting or looking for him ; but no one looks for him - it is time to explore ; to hunt ; to observe his clan again . maybe he will learn something new today
[member=6881]wormwood.[/member]
Ament settles along a raised root to preen himself , the chitter of his feathers between his teeth : a focus primarily along his chest and wings . he is drowsy , one of the few nights the venadi had slept through the night instead of hunting or patrolling his tanglewood . preening is a good way to wake up , even without his sisters , without his usual softness , ament is prideful , he is vain of his brown feathers . he keeps to a routine, if only to keep what little stability e can have in a place bursting with activity ; with different things happening during the day , ament must look his best ; or at least get the blood of his last prey out of his feathers .
without his sisters ; without his mother - ament is still venadi , still raptor . without a pack a raptor will surely die , but in this age there are little to compete with unless he were to take on one of the clans or another raptor , and even then - ament will survive ; he survived the lygari , he has survived past having his head cleaved in two , and he still sits next to a clan ; next to curiosities that could do the same thing lygari had : fill his mind , break him - collar him : ament would bend , but he will break free and he would kill them : ament would survive , or he would not . there is no between .
There is no fear in a creature like him ; there is pain that could be wrought : there is anger that could be spurred ; there is wraith ; but ament does not fear death ; he feared speration , he feared living without his pack , but his pack is gone , is no more and still he remains . it is odd , to live past the fear of something crippleing to him , to life after it - it makes him stronger , makes him stronger and yet weaker : without them there is no pack ; no communication . Only him and the curiosities , only him and the clan . The clan that does not understand him and one he does not try to leave either ; he is at an impasse .
a still beast , is a dead beast
so he moves , quick rapid and fluid, he slips from the outer territory the clan claims as theirs and closer towards the center - never too close ; never to encroach enough to gather attention unless someone is out hunting or looking for him ; but no one looks for him - it is time to explore ; to hunt ; to observe his clan again . maybe he will learn something new today
[member=6881]wormwood.[/member]
made by wisker
I LET THE ANGER GO—
AND MOTHER NATURE FOUND IT'S PLACE
AND MOTHER NATURE FOUND IT'S PLACE