Post by madiebeau on Sept 21, 2015 17:41:26 GMT -8
Feeding on fever,
down on all fours.
His intention never was to stay in one place for so long, but the Lullen (his former home) had consumed him. Akita's broken promise had bound him to the rotwood like an insect to pinboard. Fenrir realises now how complacent he had become in the years spent planning his revenge on her, and anyone, and anything that had ever wronged him - in the years spent cowering from natural, and not so natural disasters. He had thought, once or twice, of aligning himself with the god of his former world. He had, once or twice, considered devoting himself to Kestrel. Before he learned that even gods can die. Even eternities can end.
His world's imminent fall drives him from the closest thing to home he has ever known. At least the Lullen had been his for a time. He thinks of his progeny for a fleeting moment. What disappointments they had all turned out to be. Weak sons, and foolish daughters. Perhaps, it was a service to leave them there for the imploding world to destroy. Let them cling to their broken wyvern god. Fenrir didn't have time for death - not yet.
It is said that there is a paradise that awaits heroes when they die. Fenrir doesn't really believe in an afterlife. He doesn't really believe in anything except for what he can control. Which is everything and nothing. For instance, even though he does not know it, his subconscious molds the land before him into what he wishes to see. The promise of new beginning in a land far from the rule of Kestrel.
Oceanic Steppe is aptly named, for the flat rolls on into the horizon in every direction, and the grasses ripple like shallow ocean waves. Fenrir's red-black form is conspicuous against the stretching flat. He is not used to allowing himself to stray this far from the cover of forested shadows. For a moment he reflects back to the Lullen, and the tangled forest that had kept him for so long. There the rotwood swallowed his entirety, and allowed him to rove unseen - to stalk, and prowl. The Steppe, however, exposes him.
The scent of fresh water draws his thirsty lips to a placid lake. Even here the land is flat and mostly featureless. Stunted shrubs offer some cover, but he still feels bare in such a setting. He decides that he will not stay here long. The land is as barren of mares as it is of trees. Still, he is wary. Even out here, he is sure that predators lurk.
His world's imminent fall drives him from the closest thing to home he has ever known. At least the Lullen had been his for a time. He thinks of his progeny for a fleeting moment. What disappointments they had all turned out to be. Weak sons, and foolish daughters. Perhaps, it was a service to leave them there for the imploding world to destroy. Let them cling to their broken wyvern god. Fenrir didn't have time for death - not yet.
It is said that there is a paradise that awaits heroes when they die. Fenrir doesn't really believe in an afterlife. He doesn't really believe in anything except for what he can control. Which is everything and nothing. For instance, even though he does not know it, his subconscious molds the land before him into what he wishes to see. The promise of new beginning in a land far from the rule of Kestrel.
Oceanic Steppe is aptly named, for the flat rolls on into the horizon in every direction, and the grasses ripple like shallow ocean waves. Fenrir's red-black form is conspicuous against the stretching flat. He is not used to allowing himself to stray this far from the cover of forested shadows. For a moment he reflects back to the Lullen, and the tangled forest that had kept him for so long. There the rotwood swallowed his entirety, and allowed him to rove unseen - to stalk, and prowl. The Steppe, however, exposes him.
The scent of fresh water draws his thirsty lips to a placid lake. Even here the land is flat and mostly featureless. Stunted shrubs offer some cover, but he still feels bare in such a setting. He decides that he will not stay here long. The land is as barren of mares as it is of trees. Still, he is wary. Even out here, he is sure that predators lurk.
FENRIR
MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOXOGRPHY 2.0