05-20-2019, 10:39 AM
Revenge is such a bad word, something so easy to attain should not be so damning. A fine line between what is right and wrong crossed by fixing said wrong. Hebi disliked it, this bickering- this ceaseless battle to violence - all his life he wanted peace. Peace to live with his family alone in the quiet - be happy and hunt at their leisure. But such peace- such hopeful ambition was twisted horribly wrong. For his home- his family where threatened- killed by the ghosts of revenge. Never safe because everyone was out for them- to kill-slaughter for revenge.
The Jaguar was quiet- solem in comparison to the vibrant life around him. Even steps only halted by the tightening of his binds - his children. All three clung to the panther in their own ways. Ira curled along his neck like a loose necklace, careful the the jaggad canines strung across his neck. Furror buried under the joint of his wing, lazing under soft down. Asure, tricky little thing was resting lazily atop his head, curled between two outcropping stubs that were barely even labeled as horns.
He made a sorry sight, eyes half closed in apathy as he sauntered closer and closer towards the previously abandoned border that hosted a school. A clasp filled with cut off tails- macabre as they were swung idly behind the beast and his companions as he trekked, stilling at the border.
-- but rather, a whisper
hebi . winged black panther . bio