your heart is a muscle the size of your fist
Tox
Oversized paws and lankiness was beginning to give way to a hint of the splendour of his adult form, where his sharp angled features and lithe body would become a well oiled machine of devotion and manipulation. For now, he was simply straining for the love of his kin and his god, while trying to achieve the grace he observed from the elder members of his family. Evening prayers had finished up, and the moon was beginning its ascent into the star filled heavens. The snow had receded into a thick layer of frost in the mornings, mostly worn away by noon. Thus, the young godling was lounging near the edge of the glowing pool at the shrine's centre. He would go inside and get ready for bed eventually, but for now he wanted to watch the world move around him under cover of darkness. Two-toned gaze lazily drifted to and fro, chin tilted to the sky. He was tracing the constellation's patterns, trying to commit them to memory. He wasn't sure he would ever tire of the way the night sky looked, or the moon at its fullest height. Magenta dappled coat thinned by the summer warmth, he felt a slight chill when a stray breeze moved across his form. Not quite enough to warrant a spare fur draped over his flanks, but enough to remind him he ought to head back inside soon. The sound of approaching paws drew his attention, and he tipped his head over and back to catch the silhouette of his mother gliding closer, framed by the dim light from within the shrine proper. "Mother," he murmured warmly, the hint of a smile sliding over his features. He had never been the most openly affectionate or expressive, but he felt his emotions more deeply than most, especially in his youngest days. "I'll come inside soon, promise." he commented absently, and turned his attention back to the sky. He hoped she would come lounge in the grass with him, but wouldn't make any demands of her. After all, she'd been so busy lately and probably wanted nothing more than to get some rest. "speech" |
