unearthly refrain

Quote: Agelast seers would've mused, dancing amongst the acronycal light, their movements synthetic and possessed by their mysticism. They would move as if pulled by blackened vines throughout the debris, their eyes glazed over, and after such moments would they freeze. Calculating every movement, they would leave as if parting from a loved one they had parted times aplenty. Seers and the like were peculiar beings, appearing enigmatic ? however, all that he had known were masks to an elaborate foundation. Such foundation that had slowly crumbled, unforeseen to its inhabitants until a fateful and lark event caused it all to topple, all that was had become slumbering and diminished. Their collections of stories did not die save for the ones they had hid, and such a thing, he had thought, was no interest to him...however, such an idea kept on being proven otherwise, as it was all entrenched in who he wasn't and who he was.



Retrospection flickered and then ceased, as she, covetously, peeled away from the wilderness beyond the focus of his mind. Gradually unmoving he became when the fresh scent hovered its way into his nostrils, and damp moss eyes followed it in a lazed manner. Indeed, this other wolf seemed to be... a foreign creature, movements hummed, but not much more than that of himself. It was to be considered that he was a lurking remnant, and if he did find any others...his reaction to such an occurrence would be fickle and wavering in whatever predictions could be mustered, he best thought he would avoid it - it was unavoidable.



Ghosts would haunt; connected by invisible strings to marrow, and they would follow after him, manifesting themselves in varying forms and whispering to him against the sun, enticing him to a silky isolation surrounded by the emerged faces of the faceless - ("I thought I were in complete desolation, roaming these woods alone.) there was her voice, a envelop attempting to seal him in with her words. (Day and night - beside my own reflection. Where do you hail from, monsieur? I yearn to know.") He listened, distantly. "Yearn, do you?" A slight tip of head occupied by an absent expression. "I hail from the innards of a once empire, it slumbered amongst its own wake," Vocals hummed, unmoved by his words, "Madelle?" He wondered what such an encounter could offer him, if it indeed lasted.