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[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 sun baked sands seemed to etch with a chill of change, and at the steady throng of members circling the meeting place like sharks in a water. Virgil rose her own head, and after careful consideration, stalked forwards herself. The whelp's sickly eyes narrowed thoughtfully towards the pair, father and daughter. It was a wholesome sight, yet the reminder of it brought only apathy. Not even the morning sight of the pair could bring rage, nothing brought emotions from the amalgamation quite like the earth ever could.

"I'll take one." THe whelp muttered, her head angled still in a question like that they did not voice.

/i
ll take one for both jack and Virgil!
and those one word prompts too c: