innocence is life's biggest illusion [mortis]
11-23-2021, 08:22 PM
(This post was last modified: 11-23-2021, 08:24 PM by Zagan Anteris. Edited 1 time in total.)
The darkness hummed differently here. The child of stygian shadows blended effortlessly with the night — yet he did not belong.
Not here.
The evening’s rainshowers had left him soaked to the bone, only adding salt to the wound in regards to his current state; famished, unkempt, and alone. He had wandered to this odd corner of the world by sheer chance and now stumbled through the waving willows in search for… anything that could help him survive. A meager meal would be more than enough.
His parents had ensured that independence was instilled strongly within the brood and so the demon boy was not accustomed to feeling so helpless. But the fact that he had made it this far was nothing short of a miracle. It’s not that he had lacked the fire and determination to fend for himself, but the physical ability to do so. He had been capable of snatching a young or sickly field mouse when he could, though it only satiated him for so long.
It had been days since he had eaten by now and the journey was taking its toll on his young body. His path became more winding as his legs shook with weariness and his lids felt heavy over his eyes. Perhaps a nap would do him well to sleep off the hunger and all else that plagues him. Before he could figure his next move — likely to somewhere dark and safe — his disjointed walk became a stumble as he fell to the ground, his front legs splashing into a thin stream that wove itself through the swaying willow branches.
Not here.
The evening’s rainshowers had left him soaked to the bone, only adding salt to the wound in regards to his current state; famished, unkempt, and alone. He had wandered to this odd corner of the world by sheer chance and now stumbled through the waving willows in search for… anything that could help him survive. A meager meal would be more than enough.
His parents had ensured that independence was instilled strongly within the brood and so the demon boy was not accustomed to feeling so helpless. But the fact that he had made it this far was nothing short of a miracle. It’s not that he had lacked the fire and determination to fend for himself, but the physical ability to do so. He had been capable of snatching a young or sickly field mouse when he could, though it only satiated him for so long.
It had been days since he had eaten by now and the journey was taking its toll on his young body. His path became more winding as his legs shook with weariness and his lids felt heavy over his eyes. Perhaps a nap would do him well to sleep off the hunger and all else that plagues him. Before he could figure his next move — likely to somewhere dark and safe — his disjointed walk became a stumble as he fell to the ground, his front legs splashing into a thin stream that wove itself through the swaying willow branches.
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