Deuteronomy 31:6,8
Sharp eyes followed each little detail of his mother's preparations, flicking between the thoughtful precision with which she and Calamity assembled the ingredients and offered up the finished concoctions for their consumption. This was it, their time had come to ascend to their destiny as they'd always been meant to. The wraith glanced to his faintly glowing sister as they both felt the drowsiness pulling at their muscles, tugging insistently at their minds in tandem towards sleep and the next world. Laying his cheek upon his forelimb, the mauve tinted yearling let out a long sigh as he fell into the grip of sleep and was transported somewhere strange. Vague shapes drifted into focus, retaining the fuzzy and intangible quality that marked them as being the product of the spirit realm. Two toned gaze flitted from one place to the next, desperately drinking it all in and committing this strange new experience to memory. It was similar to when he dreamed, but there were odd little quirks that didn't fit with the machinations of the subconscious. Then, his mother was standing before him, the outline of her body smudgy like a rippling reflection in a pond. Before her, a form materialized only partially from the air. Striking blue eyes were the only aspect of the tangentially canine form that he could pin down, the rest seemed to flutter and fade from one moment to the next. "Children, introduce yourself to your Grandfather Archon Abraxas." Toxicity's voice was as strong as in the mortal realm, though there was an airy quality that he recognized as relief, perhaps even excitement? The weight of their reality seemed to have fallen away from his mother, and he felt a great deal of relief himself to see the tension eased from her ephemeral shoulders. Waifish frame swaying under the influence of Somnium's strange physics, each step was intangible and alien. He could not feel grass or soil beneath his paws, though he was certain that was what he saw each time he looked down. Drawing himself alongside his mother, he leaned against her shoulder for comfort and felt none of the familiar pressure or weight to put him at ease. "Grandfather, I've heard so much about you from mother. My name is Pontifex." he crooned with typical solemnity and softness, expression stoic in direct competition with the strange turmoil that raged in his mind. Narrow skull dipped towards the ground in a soft bow to one of the holiest figures he knew of, wondering if God himself was lingering somewhere and watching them. "speech" |
