THE SUMMER RENEWAL [hub]

[VIRGIL M.]

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XVIII - THE MOON

a monument dreams and fantasies come to life, the representation of instincts often left suppressed and a knock into our subconscious.  Virgil of the pitt is a study in beauty: a perfect understanding of that which terrifies you, a perfect picturesque of horror and delight

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within the settling of her things, virgil had become aware of the calling of the land. the closer towards the camp she had gotten the louder it was; an itch in her fur- a maggot burrowing under flesh; a disdainful but insistent nagging impulse, still silent and yet her mind was abuzz with activity, her aura, if one were to look- would note it's fluctuation. a thunderous rumble of activity that had sickly eyes staring out into the dunes from her podged shelter, her camp of thistle and thinning forestry.

the land called, beacon her here; it spoke to her through worm and- silent alike. but it was the silence that it screamed to her. this land was quiet without the presence of others, and without any distraction of words or movement the land's call were ever louder. and the desert was so full of life virgil knew- lived it, the impulse only grew as her eyes shifted into a darker forest green as she let it spread through her, an infectious impulse to hunt and consume.

[glow=#480000,2,300]feed it, and you will be rewarded.[/glow] a distant part of her heard without her ears, her mind aligning to something deep, ancient slumbering under the ground. [glow=#480000,2,300]a boon for a boon, little mona.[/glow]