- Jan 12, 2023
- 163
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tw for general disturbing imagery! check the notes at the bottom for a tl;dr.
wind whips the world outside, trees rustling the nettles from their branches and sending a flurry of leaves to the dewy grass. despite the dawn rising in smatterings of pink - blue, smog rolls over the horizon, shading the sky in hues of storm - weather. all is still aside the flat, odorous rock — save for the circling of scavengers beginning to gather precariously overhead. vultures caw, a bitter, hoarse song of thunder cracking before the skies burst themselves, broad beaks splitting hungrily against a darkening sky. wind whips violently at those unfortunate enough to traverse the marshlands, a whiplike battering enough to sweep those more delicate - limbed off their paws.
but the child is not aware.
the world splits. darkness erupts into slivers of a world they’ve only heard, felt. the stickiness beneath rose - thorn claws is something bright, brown - black sludge and — the kitten does not know of time. he does not know the life that trickles up and down pale limbs, leaping black - spots and smatterings of his own, welling blood mixing with gelatinous viscera. a buzzing riots in his ears, sharply curved and unable to flick away at the insects that land upon the membraney surface. his little maw parts and tastes the air clumsily, hungrily, whines pitifully when the milk - scent never comes. his extended belly grumbles and his vocal chords launch to match, jaws parting in a flash of delicate pink amongst these visceral ruins.
his mothers scent lingers weakly, waning with each passing moment and he feels it in each breath, the acrid stench of rot too familiar for his rapidly inflating lungs. but when the patrol arrives along the furthest area of their territory, they will smell it first — rotting by the thunderpath, crooked and bony limbs splayed at the knobby knees. a buck, at one time, belly splayed and burst to feed the tremblings of larvae that gnaw away at its greening innards. the child inside is only weeks old, trembling pale and an eye stuck half - open, the other still lidded with youth and muck. a cry towards the heavens erupt from sticking maw, for attention, for food — there was none where he rested now, and his limbs tremble, skin too pale against the parasites that latch where his fur isn’t slicked with old blood.
no one comes. no one approaches to brush a trembling muzzle against his head, sluggish licks over the tufts of tangled, matted fur following the ruff of his twiggish neck — and so he only cried again, louder. louder. his throat is hoarse with it, lungs fluttering in a delicate chest.
but the child is not aware.
the world splits. darkness erupts into slivers of a world they’ve only heard, felt. the stickiness beneath rose - thorn claws is something bright, brown - black sludge and — the kitten does not know of time. he does not know the life that trickles up and down pale limbs, leaping black - spots and smatterings of his own, welling blood mixing with gelatinous viscera. a buzzing riots in his ears, sharply curved and unable to flick away at the insects that land upon the membraney surface. his little maw parts and tastes the air clumsily, hungrily, whines pitifully when the milk - scent never comes. his extended belly grumbles and his vocal chords launch to match, jaws parting in a flash of delicate pink amongst these visceral ruins.
his mothers scent lingers weakly, waning with each passing moment and he feels it in each breath, the acrid stench of rot too familiar for his rapidly inflating lungs. but when the patrol arrives along the furthest area of their territory, they will smell it first — rotting by the thunderpath, crooked and bony limbs splayed at the knobby knees. a buck, at one time, belly splayed and burst to feed the tremblings of larvae that gnaw away at its greening innards. the child inside is only weeks old, trembling pale and an eye stuck half - open, the other still lidded with youth and muck. a cry towards the heavens erupt from sticking maw, for attention, for food — there was none where he rested now, and his limbs tremble, skin too pale against the parasites that latch where his fur isn’t slicked with old blood.
no one comes. no one approaches to brush a trembling muzzle against his head, sluggish licks over the tufts of tangled, matted fur following the ruff of his twiggish neck — and so he only cried again, louder. louder. his throat is hoarse with it, lungs fluttering in a delicate chest.
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i. he is about two weeks, nestled just inside the belly of a deer who’d been hit by a car! his mother, incredibly ill, abandoned him there for warmth against the windstorm. she can be scented nearby, but it is stale and extremely sickly! they are gross and eaten up with fleas but otherwise okay,, for now
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VELVETKIT
———⠀ ₊ ‧ .⋆ ⠀ 𐂯
nb. they / he, kitten of shadowclan. curly albino / fawn chimera with curved ears and pale eyes. bashful smiles and glassy eyes at half - mast, dark lids and a heavy curtain of lashes shrouding too pale, sensitive irises. they are a delicate blotch on the boggy marshlands, heavenfaced ; cherub - curled cheeks and long, rabbit - vein whiskers — often seen with a lazy smile etched upon blushing lips, pearl teeth seeming almost too sharp for his small, barbed maw.
𖦹 . gay, single with no crush. smells like damp earth and crushed flowers.
𖦹 . three moons, ages every thirty posts. shadowclan apprentice. mentored by tbd.
𖦹 . severe cotard’s delusion, believes and perceives himself to be rotting. any descriptions of rot or gore are not accurate!
penned by antlers -
