METAMORPHOSIS | multi-join

[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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the dawn had only begun to stretch, and the small amalgamation of worm could be found digging claws into tree bark for an inch of collectable moss. thinly veiled jars with the green plant chimed lowly from her satchel as she had spent her time here wisely, diving into the thinning jungle for all that remains; perfect spots for mushrooms, moss, tall grass, and funnily enough; flowers. all plucked and stashed away for further study. the practice of maintaining a garden never appealed to the small child, but that didn't halt her progress any further. a small alcove or poppy grew within the lush climate and virgil plucked the flower rather than hunting for seeds. digging roots and staining paw's with the dark soil.

but then the the creature stilled in her preparations; for what she did not know. only rushing out of the jungle to catch sight of the clear sky and see-

figures approached the border, and another member of the pitt had already met them from the ground as the two other's landed. another was with them, black with splashes of blue and white vivid in their coloration. Virgil felt her own fur stand on end as she truly saw them, aura's so dark, and bloodstained it made her shiver, but there was something else- something else there that drew her in, and she fell to it like a fly to the stench of rot, like a hound to the smell of blood in true fashion, a dazed look on Virgil's face as she made her way over.

"what darkness prevails you, strangers?" the thing was, they didn't feel that strange at all. something nagged at her there, and sickly hued eyes watched the trio with awe clear in her features, but there was an undercurrent of scrutiny. "you bring with you a taste of war" she added on, her voice drifting in and out of her own focus, getting lost in the sense of fire and ice of the two dragons that towered over all present here. the words were directed at them, phobos and demios. but her eyes remained on sussurus and the cock to her head- the question was evident "and you, nothing at all."

but there was a tale, one ancient and as old as time itself, mother told her once in the hush of the moon eating the sun, and the sky awoke in a dusk without prompting, where all animals scattered and scurried. horror is the definition of understanding completely, fear is the understanding of nothing. and Virgil felt it then, the tinge of fear that prickled at her spine looking up towards this strange wolf; unable to see for the first time what hid under his-it's skin.

Vivid eyes looked towards the other two, breaking contact with sussurus (iif the other looked back, looked back and saw something in her, a light stolen and the stains of kinslayer, would he preen? would he simply turn away in disgust? it was a wonder)