06-07-2020, 04:50 PM
cw: insects, parasites, & gore.
SO MANY WAYS TO SEE THE SUNRISE.
Dirt had found himself quite a scene, a massive creature, plunging limb and fangs into a still bleeding carcass. He watched it devour the twitching, gasping thing's still beating heart, watched it rip and tear the ribcage apart, as its own matched, more tendrils reaching out for the hot flesh.
It was a horrific scene, to those with delicate sensibilities, who watched, and fled. Pitiful creatures, barely weaned from their mother's milk with that attitude, unable to see the beauty in a dying meal, in a steaming corpse that was still choking and bleeding. Unable to handle the horror of a life being reduced to nothing more than a corpse to feast on. It was a shame The Pitt had grown soft, littered with fanciful, dainty children that would have been so easy to mould otherwise. The clan was rotting slowly, from the inside out, a corpseflower gone sour, and Dirt, while disappointed, had a vested interest in sticking around to watch.
Orange eyes locked on the carcass, even as flesh was rendered from bone and consumed in such an alien, foreign way. His attention traveled to the creature then, a great mass of flesh and limbs, two sets of very curious jaws. The creature's base body seemed to be similar to his own, but with its size and specific characteristics, the similarities ended, dead in the water.
And he was so very intrigued. The parasite-ridden beast drew closer, salivating copiously. Flies and wasps buzzed around him, landing on his fur, tasting the old rotten flesh and viscera he was perpetually smeared in. Cockroaches skittered over his neck fur, onto his ears and face, only to quickly dive back into the fur on his cheeks. A giant centipede had crawled down his leg, over the scabs and holes left by parasites leaving their host. He sat down, not far from Silent, lifting up a back paw to scratch at an itch, a botfly larvae turning in its home, its claws scratching at his flesh and making it twitch.
His own belly had been oddly full as of late, so while he still salivated at the sight of a corpse, of a meal, he felt little urge to snap it up for his own.
"New here too, huh?" Dirt asks, a smile tugging at his lips.
It was a horrific scene, to those with delicate sensibilities, who watched, and fled. Pitiful creatures, barely weaned from their mother's milk with that attitude, unable to see the beauty in a dying meal, in a steaming corpse that was still choking and bleeding. Unable to handle the horror of a life being reduced to nothing more than a corpse to feast on. It was a shame The Pitt had grown soft, littered with fanciful, dainty children that would have been so easy to mould otherwise. The clan was rotting slowly, from the inside out, a corpseflower gone sour, and Dirt, while disappointed, had a vested interest in sticking around to watch.
Orange eyes locked on the carcass, even as flesh was rendered from bone and consumed in such an alien, foreign way. His attention traveled to the creature then, a great mass of flesh and limbs, two sets of very curious jaws. The creature's base body seemed to be similar to his own, but with its size and specific characteristics, the similarities ended, dead in the water.
And he was so very intrigued. The parasite-ridden beast drew closer, salivating copiously. Flies and wasps buzzed around him, landing on his fur, tasting the old rotten flesh and viscera he was perpetually smeared in. Cockroaches skittered over his neck fur, onto his ears and face, only to quickly dive back into the fur on his cheeks. A giant centipede had crawled down his leg, over the scabs and holes left by parasites leaving their host. He sat down, not far from Silent, lifting up a back paw to scratch at an itch, a botfly larvae turning in its home, its claws scratching at his flesh and making it twitch.
His own belly had been oddly full as of late, so while he still salivated at the sight of a corpse, of a meal, he felt little urge to snap it up for his own.
"New here too, huh?" Dirt asks, a smile tugging at his lips.
code by spacexual
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"the maddened illusion that hides the sick squirming reality of what i am. of what we all are, when you strip away the pretence that there is more to a person than a warm, wet habitat for the billion crawling things that need a home. that love us in their way."
- MAG 032
[/td][/tr][/table]- MAG 032