- Jul 28, 2024
- 11
- 3
- 3
she is a dull dawn. shades of a rising sky shaded in times of dreary soot, tinged grey as if stormcloud ridden and growling a low rumble of thundering threat in the days prior to mirestar's ascension. she seems tempered, now . . quiet and bothered, a faraway glaze to dualtoned eyes that never seem to belong to her ( your mothers eyes, they say, you have your mothers eyes, her fur, her laugh, her name . . ). it had not known the queen, and perhaps that is why he sees her as only halfsun. not so ghostlike and grim as fading memory, more than the remnants of a family dwindling like poisoned flies. she rested away, soundless, molding, grieving into the greenery where her sister once slept. there is a fire in her eyes had burned too bright for anguish, once. he believes now that is what lit them aflame in the first place. tragedy upon tragedy upon tragedy.
she is nearest the calico's age, had grown in the shadows and crevices away from the deputy's children. she had seen them through hardships, curled at the belly of her own lilac - woven mother, and had watched as the reds and blues of her aurorian pelt grew dimmer, thinner, rumples upon each vigil. each burial. she watches as it does now ; fixes its gaze on the mottled, bicolored fur fringing the molly's hunched spine as she approaches, thinning with grief and an appetite suppressed with misfortune. regardless, she makes itself known with a clear of his throat that anyone familiar would recognize as theatrical ( not that he does so intentionally . . he'd always been a stars awful liar. he supposed being a bad actor would suit just the same. ), nearing where halfsun lounged alone.
" halfsun. you know . . " it says as it comes near, a voice calm and melodramatic all the same. it's tail is high and head lulling to the side on a heavy sigh, " my jaw is killing, still. killing. its really just, just awful . . ive been going through starlingheart's poppyseed supply like you wouldn't believe and oh, mother always said to give more than i take. i wouldn't feel right asking for another couple. " in his defense, it certainly was hurting . . the socket where muscle had been long - since punctured, cleaved through the middle where his jaw sets in a beady hinge throbbed with the weather. the cold caused him to ache and ail an, at times, it was difficult to tear the tough - ribboned flesh from a reptile's side. he hadn't asked for poppyseed, though, and the prey he drops is a bird . . soft, wide - winged and plump, with feathers like speckled earth.
it had never had much of a blank face . . as nightmarish as it was to look upon him, the thought of controlling whatever twitch and pull his facial muscles contract into had been a far afterthought, " share with me again? all that ripping and tearing and plucking . . i can really only go for a nice, tender middle right now. " eat, rest with me. trickery ( however unconvincing ), if it was to convince her barbs away, he prayed the stars would excuse just as he prayed his friend would be too revolted by his limited palette to question why he is already settling down aside her.
she is nearest the calico's age, had grown in the shadows and crevices away from the deputy's children. she had seen them through hardships, curled at the belly of her own lilac - woven mother, and had watched as the reds and blues of her aurorian pelt grew dimmer, thinner, rumples upon each vigil. each burial. she watches as it does now ; fixes its gaze on the mottled, bicolored fur fringing the molly's hunched spine as she approaches, thinning with grief and an appetite suppressed with misfortune. regardless, she makes itself known with a clear of his throat that anyone familiar would recognize as theatrical ( not that he does so intentionally . . he'd always been a stars awful liar. he supposed being a bad actor would suit just the same. ), nearing where halfsun lounged alone.
" halfsun. you know . . " it says as it comes near, a voice calm and melodramatic all the same. it's tail is high and head lulling to the side on a heavy sigh, " my jaw is killing, still. killing. its really just, just awful . . ive been going through starlingheart's poppyseed supply like you wouldn't believe and oh, mother always said to give more than i take. i wouldn't feel right asking for another couple. " in his defense, it certainly was hurting . . the socket where muscle had been long - since punctured, cleaved through the middle where his jaw sets in a beady hinge throbbed with the weather. the cold caused him to ache and ail an, at times, it was difficult to tear the tough - ribboned flesh from a reptile's side. he hadn't asked for poppyseed, though, and the prey he drops is a bird . . soft, wide - winged and plump, with feathers like speckled earth.
it had never had much of a blank face . . as nightmarish as it was to look upon him, the thought of controlling whatever twitch and pull his facial muscles contract into had been a far afterthought, " share with me again? all that ripping and tearing and plucking . . i can really only go for a nice, tender middle right now. " eat, rest with me. trickery ( however unconvincing ), if it was to convince her barbs away, he prayed the stars would excuse just as he prayed his friend would be too revolted by his limited palette to question why he is already settling down aside her.
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i. @Halfsun when ur grieving and ur concerned friend comes over w doordash
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LOONFACE
———————HE / IT / SHE, WARRIOR OF SHADOWCLAN. MOCKINGBIRDCRY xxFATHER. 23 MOONS OLD, SMELLS LIKE CRUSHED FLOWERS & CARRION. PENNED BY ANTLERS.
a tall, haunting lilac tabby with dark features and syrupy amber eyes.he carries through life an uncanniness he cannot shed. a unique culmination of atypical traits has given it stature like something dredged of nightmare ; like his mother he is doused in sleek waves of marbled lilac, plush softens the underlying jut of sinew and bone at his chest. from afar, he seems unworldly, if a bit sick ; all popping vertebrae and thickly veined membrane, doused in thick waves of fur like his mother. if it weren’t for a face like oil - slick rot & buzz of hungry horseflies clouding it’s features into pitch black, cutting off sharply at the neck as if earth has come to reclaim him. his long snout is torn in ribbons stretching towards the outer corner of his ear in an overgrown and toothy glasgow smile, the only cut of age - tinged color against stark shadow.