shinedown

It was yet another night of exploring the volcano, though with each passing night he grew more and more eager to escape the confines of the pack's lands and see what lay beyond. At this moment, he was perched on a rocky outcropping near the summit of the volcano. Under the light of the full moon, the surrounding landscape was laid out like an ethereal portrait before him. He could see for miles, and everything was painted in shades of silver and charcoal. The pale youth couldn't help but find himself all the more desperate to leave. Most of his siblings had taken the risk, and stolen away when there was a break in the border patrols.. so why hadn't he tried yet? It was hard to say. After all, he was a prince. His mother ruled these lands, and there was no doubt in his mind that he could handle himself in the territories beyond the borders. Perhaps tomorrow he would take the leap, finally..

As his gaze roved from one horizon to the other, something glowing faintly near his paws caught his attention. There was a moment where he felt his heart leap into his throat, that perhaps the crystals were coming back, and his family might fall ill again. That the long night was going to start again, and everyone would get sick. The lanky child quickly leapt from the outcropping and scampered towards the object that was tucked away in its shadow. In a gap that had almost certainly been formed by one of the occasional tremors from deep within the heart of Mount Volkan, a small glass bottle had found itself stuck fast between a rock and a hard place. Nimble paws moving with a clumsy kind of deftness, he wedged his talons in between the rough pumice stone of the outcropping and the smooth glass of the bottle. It took a little bit of wriggling on his part, and then some slow rocking back and forth of the bottle as he coaxed it free of the hollow beneath. When it finally did come free, he clasped it gently between dainty incisors to inspect atop the outcropping where the moonlight was stronger.

The soft tink, clink of the small glass bottle against the dark stone was music to his ears. The liquid inside swirled in shades of carmine, magenta, and amaranth, and glittered like it was full of crystal dust. A crooning hum of curiosity bubbled up in his throat, and he used one of those terrible talons like a meat hook to pull the small cork free of the mouth of the bottle. Lowering his nose to the narrow mouth, he took a little sniff. A damp, loamy smell like overturned earth and decaying leaf litter filled his nose. The youngster trilled with delight, and tipped the liquid into a divot in the porous stone at his paws. He did not discard the bottle- he wanted to keep it. For what exactly, he didn't know. He'd figure that out later. Lowering his cherry kissed snout to the glittering liquid at his paws, he dipped the tip of his tongue into the glimmering mixture. Oh no! Screwing up his cherubic features in disgust, he gagged audibly and shook his head vigorously. Leaving his tongue lolling from his maw, he hoped he could aerate his mouth and fling the foul fluid from his tongue. No such luck, and now the end of his pale pink tongue was tingling. Was this what it was like to be poisoned? He thought Widow would have been the one to kill him this way, and here he was, doing it all by his damned self!

Slumping back onto his haunches, the slate marked child glowered at the pink drink that had dared to lure him in with false hope of cotton candy flavouring. What a cruel and unusual punishment for perfectly natural curiosity!

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