11-11-2021, 04:21 AM
(This post was last modified: 12-02-2021, 12:20 AM by Amaranth. Edited 2 times in total.)
@Sylvie
collecting/hoarding
collecting/hoarding
The mountains lingered ominously in the distance, outlined by the hollow glow of a half-moon. The warmth of the sun had disappeared behind the horizon, leading into an ominous and expansive blackness that fell across the desolate and foreign land. Jagged fangs of four fearsome mountains were outlined in a deep navy; their very presence was demanding. Encompassing. Entrancing. Perhaps that was why she'd traveled so far north ...
... after sneaking out of bed with Valeska, unable to sleep and instead venturing off to ... well, she wasn't exactly sure. Wander, perhaps. Or collect. Or recoil away from emotions and feelings that had become rather bothersome and pesky lately. What, with a child in their grounds and Vikings threatening their beds?
Purple eyes hardened, gaze turning toward the sparsity of the dying trees. Their canopy was dilapidated at best, offering little in the way of shelter or camouflage. But Amaranth did not seek to hide, no, instead she trapezed very willingly in the light of the pale moon ... her golden fur outlined in soft silver fire.
The marionette of her body slowed, pulled to a steady halt by the puppeteer that was her exhausted mind. She pulled up beside the cracking base of a creaking tree, eyes glancing down toward a random assortment of black feathers. There were strikes and scuffle marks in the ground, as if ... perhaps ... a smaller critter had caught itself a meal and left nothing but the hints of its prey behind.
'Pity,' she thought with bitter irony, a Cheshire grin coiling on dark lips.
Amaranth would collect the feathers, for somehow, she was always running low on her precious supply. She'd bring them hope and drape them over herself and her lover in a soft, ebony blanket made of the cacophonous cries of the ravens.
the staff team luvs u