09-18-2018, 09:24 PM
post retro to rosebloods visit! ^^ hidden scrolling!//
Ament is, and always will be a tightly bolted creature of wraith. It rattles in his frame and builds into his chest and croons in his ear, until it is suffocating and he can do nothing but tremble with the feeling of it. It has only grown with his age, only become stronger and louder- and harder to ignore until he listens to it, until his small fragile frame is swashed in visceral carnage of it's shadow. Painted a more brilliant red than mother's own scar that mar's his face. His sister's are different, with their personalities so strongly clashing with the instinct inside them all- it it easier to turn in distaste than stay and mark his home- make a den out of the remnant of his damage on the world, a clear example to other's just what happens when someone pisses him off.
But there are times where he is bursting with something else, something clawing and ticking and once quiet- insistent becomes impossible to ignore. He see's the way other's watch him, with an intelligence that he can never grasp- with a knowledge that is instinctual to them comes to him in hurtles. Common knowledge of a warrior- knows next to nothing about the trivialities of peace. It is this gap, this shine of knowledge that ament cannot fully grasp- only sparks and embers clutch in his claws until they simmer out. Ament is left with the remnant of something so common to the average sentient- they are so interesting- these curiosities that he calls them. THier knowledge- ament wonder's if they even know how grateful it is to live with a brain.
Something that is not purely physical- it is a concept. ANother thing he does not know- a manner of speak. A mindset that he cannot trace. It is not fitness or wellness, but nature. the very same nature that gave him teeth and claws and wraith without thoughts to pierce it, without a mind to out logic it. The little emotions he ever does feel are so swept and sudden they leave him brimming with either one or both sides. THey leave him gasping- thirsting for more. More blood- more knowlege. Grabby fingers of a beast that knew nothing of stop- only that the world was bountiful. THat the world was his if he only grasp it.
The world is merciless, and so he knows nothing but. He grabs ahold of everything in his sight. TOday was not the first time that ament has looked into the dens of others- black face twisting to check the scent, fresh or no- before continuing. He took note that no one likes him in their stuff when they are around- but when they are away? noninclusive. Time to see- and maybe, time to understand a little bit more about this "raptor tamer" that VIrgo seems so hateful towards.
He understands her logic, sure. He would hate to be under someone else's hold- anyone else tightly held leash, and he isn't. Not truly, beside what instinct decides for him when a threat is too big for him or his sister- does hi still. But Owen is a dog, made of fur and soft flesh and intelligence. his "girls" do nothing to repel him from them, they tolerate him- and he wants to know why.
So, owen's stuff.
Claws tear swiftly through whatever bedding the dog had set up, dark blue eyes pulling at the ribboned fabric and trying to gather data- in a similar way that a scientist would poor over his paper's. Aments look around the den as if it held the secrets to the universe. and went to rip up the bedding more.
[member=1310]OWEN.[/member]
Ament is, and always will be a tightly bolted creature of wraith. It rattles in his frame and builds into his chest and croons in his ear, until it is suffocating and he can do nothing but tremble with the feeling of it. It has only grown with his age, only become stronger and louder- and harder to ignore until he listens to it, until his small fragile frame is swashed in visceral carnage of it's shadow. Painted a more brilliant red than mother's own scar that mar's his face. His sister's are different, with their personalities so strongly clashing with the instinct inside them all- it it easier to turn in distaste than stay and mark his home- make a den out of the remnant of his damage on the world, a clear example to other's just what happens when someone pisses him off.
But there are times where he is bursting with something else, something clawing and ticking and once quiet- insistent becomes impossible to ignore. He see's the way other's watch him, with an intelligence that he can never grasp- with a knowledge that is instinctual to them comes to him in hurtles. Common knowledge of a warrior- knows next to nothing about the trivialities of peace. It is this gap, this shine of knowledge that ament cannot fully grasp- only sparks and embers clutch in his claws until they simmer out. Ament is left with the remnant of something so common to the average sentient- they are so interesting- these curiosities that he calls them. THier knowledge- ament wonder's if they even know how grateful it is to live with a brain.
Something that is not purely physical- it is a concept. ANother thing he does not know- a manner of speak. A mindset that he cannot trace. It is not fitness or wellness, but nature. the very same nature that gave him teeth and claws and wraith without thoughts to pierce it, without a mind to out logic it. The little emotions he ever does feel are so swept and sudden they leave him brimming with either one or both sides. THey leave him gasping- thirsting for more. More blood- more knowlege. Grabby fingers of a beast that knew nothing of stop- only that the world was bountiful. THat the world was his if he only grasp it.
The world is merciless, and so he knows nothing but. He grabs ahold of everything in his sight. TOday was not the first time that ament has looked into the dens of others- black face twisting to check the scent, fresh or no- before continuing. He took note that no one likes him in their stuff when they are around- but when they are away? noninclusive. Time to see- and maybe, time to understand a little bit more about this "raptor tamer" that VIrgo seems so hateful towards.
He understands her logic, sure. He would hate to be under someone else's hold- anyone else tightly held leash, and he isn't. Not truly, beside what instinct decides for him when a threat is too big for him or his sister- does hi still. But Owen is a dog, made of fur and soft flesh and intelligence. his "girls" do nothing to repel him from them, they tolerate him- and he wants to know why.
So, owen's stuff.
Claws tear swiftly through whatever bedding the dog had set up, dark blue eyes pulling at the ribboned fabric and trying to gather data- in a similar way that a scientist would poor over his paper's. Aments look around the den as if it held the secrets to the universe. and went to rip up the bedding more.
[member=1310]OWEN.[/member]
ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛᴏᴏᴛʜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʟᴀᴡ ᴀɴᴅ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅʏ ᴍᴀᴡ // ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴄᴀᴛᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ- ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪʟʟ ʀᴇɢʀᴇᴛ ɪᴛ.
made by wisker
I LET THE ANGER GO—
AND MOTHER NATURE FOUND IT'S PLACE
AND MOTHER NATURE FOUND IT'S PLACE