[div style="cursor: url("http://cur.cursors-4u.net/cursors/cur-9/cur836.cur"), auto; margin: 0 auto; border-width:0; width: 70%; text-align: justify; line-height: 1.5; font-family: arial; font-size: 9pt;"]To Virgo, she knows that they are god's tears - the tears she is privileged to feel upon her back, to acknowledge and realise her glory. The morning dew, golden but unaccounted for, is twinkling like the sea at night. Ripe, rich petals, weightless and floating like pixie dust. It was the kind of glitter that you could hold within the cusp of your palms, wrap your fingers around, close your eyes and make a wish from the bottom of your heart. A wishing well. Beautiful like her eyes, blessing the land with her gaze. The bright hues interlock like waves, a gentle tide in the ocean. The image is frail. The colours pass through stained glass, obsured and changed into something that is neither blurred or clear. A tranquil incandescence. They are intangible streams of light. Sunny webs reach her ivory feathers, marking her royalty. The warmth of soil kisses her feet. It is a form of flattery she is used to, a love that she expects from her underlings. The earth knows where it must stand in relation to her form, it knows how it must act within her radiating presence. She is sure that even god's tears, the golden breeze, are of joy - watching her in admiration, the way sunspots accent her alabaster tones. A celebration of her life, a dance like the glimmer of brave fire.
And yet such beauty, such splendor, can become tainted. It prowled on her perfection, came from the abyss. She imagines it a beast worst than her, a monster that was ugly and unformed. Crawling and pulling itself from a bottomless pit, a nightmare of a face. She never expected to be run down with a sickness during their travels. Teeth clamp at her sides, feathers dissipating along the soil. She was losing them, the beauty that had clung to her pale skin beneath. Virgo thought she would be fine at first. The alpha of the venandi could never be overtaken by a mere cold. To her misfortunate, there was nothing mere about it. The virus was bound within her. Like weeds, it grew roots, strangling her system. It coiled and soiled itself within the places that were hardest to reach, hidden away from the grasps of her immune system. Her temperature ranged from hot and cold, never the sweet in-between and always stuck within the great walls of misery. The worse part of it was when bundles of her feathers became dappled along the undeserving ground. She awoke to shedding during the wrong season and it became difficult to move. She is sure that whatever unseen force was behind this, it was no god. The memories that echoed was that she awoke with a cry.
She told her brother and sister that she wished to return to their island, to their birthplace. It was the place they had hatched as eggs to be raised by their abyssal mother. She longs for the comfort of Luciferus, his warm embrace, his inky scales that will shelter her from whatever monster has possessed her. The barbaric girl is sickly but refuses to show it, for any sign of suffering will be proof of her succumbing to its awful embrace. Virgo walks silently behind the moving forms of Ament and Exodus. Her claws rake across the hard ground, tapping and clicking whilst her eyes scan carefully about, unafraid of the lifeforms that surround and peer at their privacy. She is sure her brethren are aware that she is unwell but she tries her hardest anyway to appear calm and strong. If she looks as though she is dying, it may alarm her siblings but Virgo is aware that it will soon pass. She is stronger than that. She bears blood that is pure to their lineage, a weapon to be marveled and envied. A sickness will not cause her to pass. It will be her who will cause the sickness to be vanquished, smoldering beneath her dangerous talons.
The utahraptor smells what she can, nostrils flaring like that of a typical predator as she takes a whiff of the island. She recognises new and different scents that have become intermingled with the salty air but there are others that are the same. Familiarity sweeps over her, unaccustomed and unwilling to see change. Traditions have and always have been important to her. To betray their own ancestors, their own DNA, was a disgusting act to Virgo. All those who dared try to cross their sacred ways would have to be eliminated. She will not stand mutiny within her precious pack. Her brother and sister know better. Virgo's feathers rustle behind her, wings shifting when she looks for their nest. There is no waiting at the border. She knows no territory lines. This was home for her. They were the beasts The Typhoon should have been afraid of. After having left for about a month or two, the raptors had grown. They were bigger now, ready to take on the likes of dogs who dared challenge them all on their own.
Her feathered crest raises, wary of her surroundings. Something has been scavenging around their nest, poking their nose where they shouldn't have even dared. She knows this before she even reaches their peaceful abode because of the markings along the trees, the inconsistencies that ran with her memories. 'We have an intruder within our midst,' the alpha notes to her siblings, hissing with a raised lip. But before she can react any further, her sickly system revolts against her. She hacks a few painful coughs, organs threatening to spill from her maw that she winces. Virgo wants to chase whoever has been invading their nest but it's impossible with her state, moving and slumping within her nest. Her brows furrow in annoyance at the moved twigs and broken fragments that lie along the ground but she clenches her teeth and coils her body, resting her head against her wing. She knows that she needs not to speak their ancient tongue to Exodus and Ament. They understand the measures she must take to get better. She is no magician.
Instead she orders them this: 'Go tell mother that we've returned for now.'
[ ooc ] the venandi raptors are back from their adventures around all the groups for the time being so please wait until at least one of the other raptors ( [member=1649]EXODUS ![/member] [member=1827]AMENT .[/member] ) or [member=232]LUCIFER GRIMM.[/member] replies. virgo is currently sick so they decide to return to the typhoon until she gets better. a reminder that no one understands what the raptors are saying as it's an ancient language that only the venandi and lucifer understand - they otherwise appear completely feral. in terms of owen's raptors, i'm p sure we agreed that some parts of their language overlap like ancient greek vs modern greek but they don't share the same tongue.
And yet such beauty, such splendor, can become tainted. It prowled on her perfection, came from the abyss. She imagines it a beast worst than her, a monster that was ugly and unformed. Crawling and pulling itself from a bottomless pit, a nightmare of a face. She never expected to be run down with a sickness during their travels. Teeth clamp at her sides, feathers dissipating along the soil. She was losing them, the beauty that had clung to her pale skin beneath. Virgo thought she would be fine at first. The alpha of the venandi could never be overtaken by a mere cold. To her misfortunate, there was nothing mere about it. The virus was bound within her. Like weeds, it grew roots, strangling her system. It coiled and soiled itself within the places that were hardest to reach, hidden away from the grasps of her immune system. Her temperature ranged from hot and cold, never the sweet in-between and always stuck within the great walls of misery. The worse part of it was when bundles of her feathers became dappled along the undeserving ground. She awoke to shedding during the wrong season and it became difficult to move. She is sure that whatever unseen force was behind this, it was no god. The memories that echoed was that she awoke with a cry.
She told her brother and sister that she wished to return to their island, to their birthplace. It was the place they had hatched as eggs to be raised by their abyssal mother. She longs for the comfort of Luciferus, his warm embrace, his inky scales that will shelter her from whatever monster has possessed her. The barbaric girl is sickly but refuses to show it, for any sign of suffering will be proof of her succumbing to its awful embrace. Virgo walks silently behind the moving forms of Ament and Exodus. Her claws rake across the hard ground, tapping and clicking whilst her eyes scan carefully about, unafraid of the lifeforms that surround and peer at their privacy. She is sure her brethren are aware that she is unwell but she tries her hardest anyway to appear calm and strong. If she looks as though she is dying, it may alarm her siblings but Virgo is aware that it will soon pass. She is stronger than that. She bears blood that is pure to their lineage, a weapon to be marveled and envied. A sickness will not cause her to pass. It will be her who will cause the sickness to be vanquished, smoldering beneath her dangerous talons.
The utahraptor smells what she can, nostrils flaring like that of a typical predator as she takes a whiff of the island. She recognises new and different scents that have become intermingled with the salty air but there are others that are the same. Familiarity sweeps over her, unaccustomed and unwilling to see change. Traditions have and always have been important to her. To betray their own ancestors, their own DNA, was a disgusting act to Virgo. All those who dared try to cross their sacred ways would have to be eliminated. She will not stand mutiny within her precious pack. Her brother and sister know better. Virgo's feathers rustle behind her, wings shifting when she looks for their nest. There is no waiting at the border. She knows no territory lines. This was home for her. They were the beasts The Typhoon should have been afraid of. After having left for about a month or two, the raptors had grown. They were bigger now, ready to take on the likes of dogs who dared challenge them all on their own.
Her feathered crest raises, wary of her surroundings. Something has been scavenging around their nest, poking their nose where they shouldn't have even dared. She knows this before she even reaches their peaceful abode because of the markings along the trees, the inconsistencies that ran with her memories. 'We have an intruder within our midst,' the alpha notes to her siblings, hissing with a raised lip. But before she can react any further, her sickly system revolts against her. She hacks a few painful coughs, organs threatening to spill from her maw that she winces. Virgo wants to chase whoever has been invading their nest but it's impossible with her state, moving and slumping within her nest. Her brows furrow in annoyance at the moved twigs and broken fragments that lie along the ground but she clenches her teeth and coils her body, resting her head against her wing. She knows that she needs not to speak their ancient tongue to Exodus and Ament. They understand the measures she must take to get better. She is no magician.
Instead she orders them this: 'Go tell mother that we've returned for now.'
[ ooc ] the venandi raptors are back from their adventures around all the groups for the time being so please wait until at least one of the other raptors ( [member=1649]EXODUS ![/member] [member=1827]AMENT .[/member] ) or [member=232]LUCIFER GRIMM.[/member] replies. virgo is currently sick so they decide to return to the typhoon until she gets better. a reminder that no one understands what the raptors are saying as it's an ancient language that only the venandi and lucifer understand - they otherwise appear completely feral. in terms of owen's raptors, i'm p sure we agreed that some parts of their language overlap like ancient greek vs modern greek but they don't share the same tongue.
