Bang Two
09-16-2015, 11:21 PM
Crawling - Linkin Park
BIC:: Slow steps guided the tall wolf as he moved low through the plant life. He was stalking again, exploring this new world of his. It was mid day over head, but the plant life here provided ample shade. This was thick vegetation. What he'd grown up in. This was what he knew. If was nice to see such things after his time in the West. But he'd been sitting stagnant. He needed to move. To Explore. The Folami wanted to experience what Alacritis had to offer. To know and learn what it had to teach him. Because as it sat right now he was nothing. He was no one. He was purposeless and pointless. Nothing more than a fume created by the world.
Obito was a blank slate who bore a proud name. There was much that he had to prove as he moved his way through the thick plant life, guided by his nose and ears more so than his eyes. Fully alert, each step cautious. He was born of the highest caliber. And it was his curse just as much as his blessing. Obito Folami. Folami was an ancient word that meant 'I Command Respect'. At at current, he did not. He had to earn that name. He had to earn that title. He was young still, so there was much time left to do so. But he was of age to start looking. Like the Mlezi, he was a creature of impulse and instinct more than thought. His face neutral, his eyes wide and alert. Ears on end, tail calm behind him, controlling his breathing as he stalked like a shadow through the plant life.
His sister had taken too much to his mother's side. She'd been told different bedtime stories. About a god with a weird name. They had been very different, the two of them. His sister was sophisticated. Social. He was a tribal animal. More in tune to emotion, more bendable to change. More adaptable. All he had though where the lessons he'd already been taught. He wanted more. Coming to a clearing in the thick plant life, he so a puddle before him, allowed only to exist by a break in the trees. Coming to a rest, he lowered himself to his rump, settling himself upright, tail coming around to rest atop his paws. He closed his eyes and lowered his snout, ears standing to listen to the world around him. Could he hear them here? The ghosts that whispered of the war and blood the land had once seen? What pointless blood shed had this corner world witnessed? He was well attuned to the spirit world. It could be traced back along his ancestry. They where a tribal bunch, the Folami. The beginning of their very existence plagued with the blood shed. He himself admittedly have a love for blood. To feel it roll down his maw, warm and sweet. He'd been born with blue eyes, as most pups where. But he'd been told a story once about the first time he'd bitten into the red meat. They said that his eyes had turned to their current color over night. What purpose could such an animal have here?
Obito didn't know what he was supposed to be. But he knew something angry festered underneath. A yearning to consume flesh. An unnatural pleasure in it. He was not evil. But there was a taint of it on him. He was a hunter, in it's truest form. Everything he was stronger than was prey to this strange yearning. Even his own kind a viable meal. He'd never indulged the practice. But he wasn't against it in his heart. What use? What use did Alacritis have for such a creature? He was no longer exploring the terrain, but now the confines of his own mind. What lessons, on Ghosts? What dark history does this land hold that would warrant a creation such as I? He asked himself. How was he to earn his name? His soul was pure, he was not evil. At least, he didn't want to be seen that way. So why? Why the craving for blood?
Understand would have to be obtained for all the riddles in the dark to make sense.
BIC:: Slow steps guided the tall wolf as he moved low through the plant life. He was stalking again, exploring this new world of his. It was mid day over head, but the plant life here provided ample shade. This was thick vegetation. What he'd grown up in. This was what he knew. If was nice to see such things after his time in the West. But he'd been sitting stagnant. He needed to move. To Explore. The Folami wanted to experience what Alacritis had to offer. To know and learn what it had to teach him. Because as it sat right now he was nothing. He was no one. He was purposeless and pointless. Nothing more than a fume created by the world.
Obito was a blank slate who bore a proud name. There was much that he had to prove as he moved his way through the thick plant life, guided by his nose and ears more so than his eyes. Fully alert, each step cautious. He was born of the highest caliber. And it was his curse just as much as his blessing. Obito Folami. Folami was an ancient word that meant 'I Command Respect'. At at current, he did not. He had to earn that name. He had to earn that title. He was young still, so there was much time left to do so. But he was of age to start looking. Like the Mlezi, he was a creature of impulse and instinct more than thought. His face neutral, his eyes wide and alert. Ears on end, tail calm behind him, controlling his breathing as he stalked like a shadow through the plant life.
His sister had taken too much to his mother's side. She'd been told different bedtime stories. About a god with a weird name. They had been very different, the two of them. His sister was sophisticated. Social. He was a tribal animal. More in tune to emotion, more bendable to change. More adaptable. All he had though where the lessons he'd already been taught. He wanted more. Coming to a clearing in the thick plant life, he so a puddle before him, allowed only to exist by a break in the trees. Coming to a rest, he lowered himself to his rump, settling himself upright, tail coming around to rest atop his paws. He closed his eyes and lowered his snout, ears standing to listen to the world around him. Could he hear them here? The ghosts that whispered of the war and blood the land had once seen? What pointless blood shed had this corner world witnessed? He was well attuned to the spirit world. It could be traced back along his ancestry. They where a tribal bunch, the Folami. The beginning of their very existence plagued with the blood shed. He himself admittedly have a love for blood. To feel it roll down his maw, warm and sweet. He'd been born with blue eyes, as most pups where. But he'd been told a story once about the first time he'd bitten into the red meat. They said that his eyes had turned to their current color over night. What purpose could such an animal have here?
Obito didn't know what he was supposed to be. But he knew something angry festered underneath. A yearning to consume flesh. An unnatural pleasure in it. He was not evil. But there was a taint of it on him. He was a hunter, in it's truest form. Everything he was stronger than was prey to this strange yearning. Even his own kind a viable meal. He'd never indulged the practice. But he wasn't against it in his heart. What use? What use did Alacritis have for such a creature? He was no longer exploring the terrain, but now the confines of his own mind. What lessons, on Ghosts? What dark history does this land hold that would warrant a creation such as I? He asked himself. How was he to earn his name? His soul was pure, he was not evil. At least, he didn't want to be seen that way. So why? Why the craving for blood?
Understand would have to be obtained for all the riddles in the dark to make sense.