[P]  A spiders web i weave [p]

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Zendelrin

of

8 y/o xlarge Male
©


 Painted were the limbs of the reaper in such elegant coverings of red. The road to such sweet satisfaction had regrettably tainted his elegance. Well, if he was honest, it was the truth of him in the moment. However, the façade of his every day persona would frown upon the disheveled appearance that breaking the seal of his controlled darkness would bring to him. He prided himself on his pristine appearance and although deep down he was elated with the display of his carnage it wouldn’t be wise to wander the lands in such attire.
 
The moon’s beauty did fill the sky with the beginnings of her evening saunter. Her children were opening their eyes and igniting the sky with their grace. The children of the night would blossom under her ever watchful eyes as her reaper searched for the comfort of a place to groom his transgressions away. This place was familiar and part of him hoped that she would be near. He wondered how often she came here waiting for him? A disappointed sigh slipped from his lips as he pushed the guilt down and focused on finding his salvation.
 
The scent of water finally kissed the edges of his senses. His shadows began to curl around his limbs to help conceal the wetness of his victim’s essence. His long auburn limbs carried him quickly towards that scent. The last thing he needed was some stranger catching him drenched in satchels blood. Soon enough the reaper halted at the waters edge. The sentinels of the willows grove stood tall against the illuminating light of the moon. Their falling limbs did a good job to conceal the light around the reaper. However, the faint scent of dried blood would still linger in the air around him. It was like a violent aura that contradicted the very carefully forged illusion of a friendly gentleman.
 
He would not stand for his moment of weakness to cloud the judgment of any new possibilities. So the man pushed those tainted limbs into the cool waters edge. It was as if the waters awoke with his offering of sin. Tiny waves washed around him as he pushed deeper into the waters. His limbs pushed back and forth around him as he pushed himself deep enough to tread water. He held his breath and fully submerged himself into the watery darkness.
 
Everything around him was black as he relived the elation he felt by ripping flesh from muscle and bones. The satisfying suction that tugged at his elongated fangs. To feel that warm liquid wine pool over his tongue and down his throat. It made that darkness inside him groaned with desire. It was never enough. Never satisfying enough until he felt that last slip of breath fall from the body of those he hunted. It was a vicious circle of life and death.
 
As much as he enjoyed reliving the episode over and over inside his head beneath the cover of the water darkness he did need to breathe. So he pushed himself back to the surface to allow his lungs to suck back in that life force that kept them all alive. As he blinked the wetness from his eyes it would appear he was no longer alone. He was grateful for the cover of darkness to help shield the leftover blood that was slowly washed away from his auburn coat.


"Zen Speaks"

 
Art by Centience

Amaltheia

of

6 y/o xlarge Female
Facilifer, Male Poodle moth
©
Gentle wings, fragile in their cadence, silent in their approach, fluttered effortlessly, suspending the tiny creature in midair like a bubble. None noticed his minuscule frame and it suited the Venetian Poodle Moth all too well. Landing on one of the gnarled trees, multiple eyes wtched the male through a kaleidoscope effect but he mesmerized everything from the way the brute held himself to the harshness in his countenance. He studied with analytical concentration for his eyes not only served him... they served her. Facilifer's gaze fell upon the coagulated blood that congealed in the heavy coat and as his antennae twitched, he could tell the source came not from prey but from another wolf. His mouth twitched upward in a ghost of a smile. Ah, but his mistress would be pleased. His tiny frame vibrated, wings twitching amicably before he pushed off, gliding effortlessly between the trees and he returned to accost the hauntingly wicked frame of his heart as she slumbered in the thicket of the trees.


She wasn't a wolf, she was a Goddess among men, an elongated phantom with tails that lashed like the sharpness of her mind and personality. Even in slumber she maintained the grace and elegance of a dancer and Facilifer took a moment to merely observe her. Draped between two branches like a virgin sacrifice her eerily long frame was displayed and arched like a ballarina, a picture of poise that was shattered by the ever shifting lash of the nine tails that writhed and consumed the space around her like a swirling vortex of mesmerizing beauty.  They reached for nothing but kept her contained, suspended in perfect balance and Facilifer forced his eyes away before he became enraptured, enslaved to the whirling mass like he'd seen so many other unwitting victims become. With eyes shut, he moved around the erratic tails with practiced ease and landed just before the curved shell of her ear. Her tails stilled, it was a rare moment suspended in time and Facilifer's heart fluttered, she only ever stuttered for him. His wings fluttered, his voice lost only to the concave shell of one slender ear and then slowly... blinded eyes peeled open to reveal their haunted whiteness to the chilling night.


~~~


The male turned, his body twisting and instead of spotting the seer off in the distance... she would be right there. Despite her gargantuan size, Amaltheia moved without a sound and his mahogany eyes would meet nothing but an eerily lithe frame that was stretched seemingly beyond conventional means and of course the nine tails that fanned around her like a vulpine peacock displaying it's proud colors. Facilifer was nowhere to be found, his tiny body lost in the silken strands of fur that fell like waves of sand down the back of her neck. "Aye, ye may wash da blood and filth from ye flesh but it still d'are, lingerin' like a brand of sin." Enchanting, her voice spilled from her tongue like the lyrics of a song, like a riddle consumed by a thick Cajun accent. "So de question is not what sins ye be needin' to wash clean, but what sins ye need to be hidin' from da eyes of da world." She took a step closer, paws plunging into the water without a sound. It was bold, it was brash, it teetered on wickedness, it was challenging. It was everything the blind seer embodied and everything she pushed those around her to be.

"Speech." 'Thoughts.'

table © freakshow



@Zendelrin

Zendelrin

of

8 y/o xlarge Male
©

Droplets slithered down the edges of his chiseled features. The darkness of his nose twitched as he pulled in the aroma around him. The sweet scent of earth and femininity filled his lungs. He could almost taste her element against his tongue. The darkness inside him reacted for a moment but he kept his aura in check. He had enjoyed letting himself go in his sinful destruction. However, now he would piece together the façade of his aristocratic person.
 
Her appearance was like that of a Kitsune. The softness of her earthen coat was quite lovely. The primal part of him wondered what it would be like to be burred against those sensual curling tails. The shadows around him almost growled with their reminder of whom it was he was searching for. He dismissed their displeasure. He was allowed to have such thoughts so long as he did not act them out. He dismissed the momentary objectifying ideas and concentrated on what she had said.
 
Something about her tugged at the edges of his memories. Did he know her? The scent was unfamiliar and yet something nagged at the edge of his memory. She had spoken of the sin that floated away with the waters current. The cover of darkness hadn’t hidden his transgression as well as he had anticipated. His smoldering ember gaze watched as she stood such a bold step towards him. Her earthen paw plummeted into the water edge like an offering. His dark brow arched in response as he felt the challenge radiate from her.
 
He wasn’t one to ignore such things. A crack in his aura seemed to breathe free. It slithered towards her like a venomous snake following the heat trail of its pray. Had she not been a female, things would have escalated quite quickly. Instead he couldn’t help the smirk that grew over his dark lips as he pushed towards her in his own form of challenge. She knew nothing of the reaper that had come to wash himself of his sins.
 
“Sins follow us all, some more so than others. I simply prefer to keep mine to myself” He said, his rich voice was as smooth as liquid chocolate. The reality of what he could be was not something many knew of. Those that were close to him got to see the full extent of his dangerous darkness. The coldness of his calculating gaze was something he had perfected hiding. Mimicking the sincerity of others had become an art form he had mastered.  It had been a difficult task to perform in his younger years but he had become so good at mimicking the emotions that he almost believed they were his.
 
 
She was monstrous in size, much like him, but she was a few inches taller than him. The heftiness of her physique hadn’t gone unnoticed. However, again she was merely a few pounds different than him. The two were almost equal in intimidating mass but she was a little more invasive. His eyes landed on the murkiness within her lovely gaze. Something inside him stirred. The familiarity nagged at him and it was evidently frustrating him. This distracted him from the challenge at hand. It was as if he almost dismissed it. Not intentionally but he was curious why he felt such a draw to her. 
“Have we crossed paths before?” he questioned, the edge of a memory sat against his mind. It was so close but so far. He could feel an ache inside his chest and it even further confused him.
@Amaltheia


"Zen Speaks"


Art by Centience

Amaltheia

of

6 y/o xlarge Female
Facilifer, Male Poodle moth
©
Blind and vacant, her misty orbs saw nothing... no blood, no sinful transgressions, no condemnation but her other senses soared. She could taste the sorrow and pain upon her tongue like a deluge of a delicacy, she could smell the thick, heavy scent of coppery iron from the promise of blood and she could feel the way the shadows prickled across her flesh like the teasing bite of a venomous viper sampling the meat before injecting a swirling concoction of venom. It enticed her, inspired her, enthralled her and her tails became a writhing entity of that eagerness. They rippled like sand, bewitching all who starred too long. Vulpine in nature, the damsel was quicksand. Mesmerizing but deadly if one sauntered too close to her siphoning center. Ah... but what beautiful thing wasn't dangerous?


Subtle splashes, delicate and precise told her that the male was moving towards her... and instead of being put off by such a notion, the vulpine grin stretched wider, her ears perked forward and a shiver traced the length of her spine in anticipation. He wanted to play? Amaltheia loved to play, but what wicked game would they concoct together? Did he seek some long forgotten dream? Perhaps a fear he waylaid as a child? The vixen was a seer, a witch, a dark entity that most only sought when they needed something... so what did this corrupted brute need? Her tails lashed with a greater fervor and another slender limb plunged forward, sinking into the murky water without the slightest hint of fear.


Laughter both low and arduous poured from her tongue. It was a mixture of tinkling bells and a cackle brewed from the depths of some rotten disfigurement and still he drifted closer. "Sins only follow ye, if ye let 'dem. Blood and bone, burial and pyre, what begins today will end in fire." The vixen purred, her elongated snout twitching to the right and down as she tracked his movements. Proximity was not something that often offended her... but then again she had vectors and they could be a wicked weapon when employed properly, regardless if she could see or not.


Silence stretched for a lengthy stretch between them until more lyrics decorated the air around them. Remember. Her tails lashed again and she drew in a deep breath, drinking in the scent of him. The surprise echoed in her soul but not on her muzzle. Foggy oculars crackled as recognition settled over her and with one graceful lope, she aimed to circle around him, tails languishing, whipping over his sides and up along his back but never actually touching. With her elongated torso contorting itself to curl around him, the Cheshire grin remained a thing of vulpine antics. "Zendelrin." That delicious Cajun accent warped the syllables of his name like a tongue twister that gyrated through her mouth in a purr. "Tell meh, are 'da sins ye washin' clean the one's ye bare for ye. Or are 'dey more souls ye be eatin' for others?" Continuing to move around him but still a ghosts breath from touching, she dropped her skull to his, that saccharine grin showing off her pearly ivories. "What brings ye back to da swamps and Amaltheia Did ye not have a brot'der to find?"

"Speech." 'Thoughts.'

table © freakshow



@Zendelrin

Zendelrin

of

8 y/o xlarge Male
©


It was interesting how quickly that carefully forged skin would slip right off. He could feel the shadows tearing into the fabricated prison that he continuously wore. The weight of it felt as if it slipped from his body and plummeted to the hungry shadows below. They swallowed up his act whole and brought him back to reality once again. His smoldering ember eyes burned with the wreckage he had done to his previous lover. The satisfaction of destroying the walls he had supposedly built around his heart had been overpowering. The total domination had sent that darkness inside him to all but consume him.
 
The double edge sword had almost pierced that frozen heart of his. However, the need to infect the man with every single bit of his wrath had destroyed that little light of doubt. He felt nothing but disappointment for not consuming Satchels soul. However, the hunt was always the sweetest game he played and he bide his time until the moment came where he could sink his scythe into that wretched cunts heart. He would collect it just as he had done every other victim he claimed.
 
Insidious lips would curl upright as he tilted his head ever so slightly to the right. Something had told him he knew her. He could feel it in his bones. His shadows still threatened to devour her whole but he dismissed their protective snarls. Her words had made a smile creep over that teasing expression. “I carry mine as I do my trophies.” He admitted, he was proud of the souls he had collected within his years. Each held that utter dominance of conquering life and bringing them home. They were his to consume and to hold within him. They would forever belong to him and they were mainly male. He only held the soul of one woman, Chath, but she had gone mad and killed their children and so she was sent home.
 
He watched as she pushed her way further into the murky waters. Her body curled around him as she studied him. She tasted his essence on the air around them. Found the truth of they’re past and teased him with those luscious tails. It amused him the lustful thought that had only moments ago crossed his mind was now returned with a more intimate reminder of their time together.  “Lady Amaltheia.” His voice was rich with his masculinity. It was almost seducing. However, he maintained his gentlemen tendencies. Regardless if her boldness demanded retribution he would not fall pray to his primal needs again.
 
“I feel as if that time was almost a lifetime ago.” He murmured, remembering how delicious that fool had been. The fear that oozed out of him when he realized whom exactly he had picked a fight with had been satiating. The demon in him had risen and conquered but not without sacrifice. It had been too long since he had feasted and he had lost himself to that blinding hunger. “The past came to test me. However, I reminded it just who is in control, consumed it, and left it wanting.“ his amusement with the turn events had been evident in his relaxed disposition. The shadows hissed like a cobra warning the other that if she got closer it would strike.
 
“I have indeed found Xzie. He is exploring somewhere in the willows.” He said, wondered where exactly his pathetic brother had gone. He had enjoyed torturing him every minute of every second they were awake. The little mongrel loved to test his boundaries. The dependency he had infected Xzie with had been seamless. Each flinch and groan brought him closer and closer to losing himself to his masochistic need. Every time he ran from him he was haunted by the memory of him. The need to be lost in that aggressive touch was always overwhelming and he knew all he needed to do was look at his brother and he would drag his pathetic ass back to him. “Have you found no other souls to… play with?” his voice was dark and haunting. He cared not to hide that darkness inside of him. He was the product of lawful destruction and she had seen his truth before, why hide it now?



"Zen Speaks"


Art by Centience

Amaltheia

of

6 y/o xlarge Female
Facilifer, Male Poodle moth
©
Vulpine and bleak, her hauntingly, striking visage was an intricacy of distraction and possession. So easy did weak willed cretins become lost in the enthralling quality of her writhing appendages, so quickly did the resonating song of rippling sand entomb the unfortunate wanderers who found her to be easy prey. Blind though she may be, Amaltheia was anything but complacent or slow. Her element embodied her, siphoning around her to create the penultimate defense while manipulating it's capabilities to provide her with equal offense. A whisper against the shell of her ear, nearly inaudible to her own enhanced hearing, told her what this male looked like and she absorbed the information that Facilifer fed her, a brief purr pouring from her vocals as his reward. She recognized the description, as did the Venetian Poodle Moth and thusly, Amaltheia was emboldened to play with him... especially since he failed to remember her.


"Trophies for sins? And where do ye keep dem? Cataloged in a jar while dey writhe and squirm tah be free?" Her voice was a lyrical push, a weaving challenge that slid from her throat like a black promise. She didn't ask the easy questions, she didn't have normal conversations... no she pushed so her useless eyes could get a measure of the soul that lurked beneath the veneer of vanity or hideousness. Of course, Zenderlin she already knew but since it seemed he'd forgotten her, it was like starting over. A new dance, a new waltz.


Or not, proximity and her vixen-like tendencies sparked recognition and after a brief bout of sampling the dark tendrils that always blanketed him... she could nearly feel the moment recognition settled across his countenance. Her tails sped up, writhing with a greater intensity as her grin stretched, testing the limitations of her Cheshire grin as he spoke her name. "Aye, so ye do remember meh." A chuckle, low and rumbling pulled from her larynx, Facilifer crawled further down his neck, his eyes not currently needed. "I was beginnin' tah suspect ye forgot about the seer of da bayou. For shame." She purred, her tails lashing over the top of him, around him one more time before she lurched away. Grace, speed and silence punctuated her every movement but she turned, curving her bodice at an arch once she stood on solid ground. She truly was ghastly with how disproportionate she was.


"Da past tests us all in it's own way. Ye seemed beyond fixation with yours. I was beginnin' tah think ye'd wandered past de edge of no return and yet here ye are... back in mah lair. Ye were a delectable morsel back 'den, but how has life life flavored ye now, I wonder?" Enchanting, the whimsical quality of her voice curled around them like a dark temptation. Amaltheia was not inherently evil by nature but nor was she good. A true neutral made her ever unpredictable and her true ambitions and goals were often lost in riddles and shadows.


He spoke of finding his brother and Amaltheia laughed, a divine sound that spilled from heaven itself. "A hellhound lost to de scent of a victim, I always knew ye would find dem. Just wasn't sure if ye would ever make it back. How does de plebeian fit coiled around your claws? Did it fill de void in your soul or do ye still hunger for more?" Curiosity crackled in her empty eyes, imploring him to answer, to speak. Almost no one denied her, almost no one clammed up in her eccentric presentation. Truthfully it was the strangeness of her countenance that had probably saved Zenderlin from madness. It was difficult not to become wrapped up in her fantasy.


Amused, her grin twisted into something far more sinister. "Aye, many lost souls wander down into 'dese swamps, many more find de absolution I gave to ye... but a few never make it back out and 'dey bones make useful tools for pickin' pieces out of mah teeth." Zenderlin was a dark soul and Amaltheia had no problem painting a lovely picture that he would thoroughly enjoy.

"Speech." 'Thoughts.'

table © freakshow



@Zendelrin

Zendelrin

of

8 y/o xlarge Male
©


Indeed it had taken him but a moment to recall the woman before him. It was an unfortunate error as their time together had been quite enjoyable. However, he was plagued with the festering demand for retribution between he and various paths of his former reality. He had enjoyed the torture laid before that white trash bastard. He had etched into that flesh a forever reminder that he would always possess him.

The question that slipped from her lips was one that amused him. Although many desired to be enraptured by those snaring tails he was not one to fall for such primitive desires. Indeed he had enjoyed his fill of warm bodies but only one had captured him fully. It was the laws of his words that reminded him that he was not to indulge in the vice of the flesh unless it belonged to her. That didn’t mean he couldn’t admire such enticing offerings.

His voice was deep and content with his response; “My trophies are encased in a thick tar like substance that allows me to enjoy them when ever I so desire.” The thickness of his masculinity seemed to become heavier as he thought about them. Every time he held them he was able to relive the memory of how they were obtained. “They are secure within the confines of my den.” Not even his wife knew where he had buried them. He couldn’t help the shiver that slithered down his spine as his aura pulsed with his excitement of it. There was a special place waiting for one particular trophy. Someday he would have it.

“Perhaps my sub consciousness brought me back while I was lost in the triumph of my inflicted punishment.” He said honestly, it wouldn’t surprise him if a silent part had guided him back to the swaps. His mind had been busy digesting what had happened between him and Satchel and with the guilt that was consuming him for being away from his wife for so long. He reminder of his quest drew a sigh from his mouth. Though it had been a very fun and demanding time when he had found his brother it had also been exhausting. It was taboo for natives to leave their sanctum and yet he had. He was uncertain of what was to meet him when he was finally home.

" “The reunion between us was utterly possessing.” He said, the thoughts of what he had done to his brother still danced within his dreams. The endless torture was something he enjoyed far more than he liked to admit. He had forced many horrific deeds onto his brother’s eager flesh but he knew the pathetic creature longed for it. He could make him beg for it if he wanted and that utter dominance was something he would never let go. Everything that belonged to Xzabrie belonged to him. Nothing and no one was safe from him.

The idea of anything filling that void inside him was one he was certain did not exist. He would always crave more. It would never be enough. There were not enough souls in the world to quench his need for damnation. He was the devils archangel after all and his work was never done. “My jaws will never taste enough souls to leave me satisfied. It is always temporary.” He said honestly, he quenched the desire for a spell or two but eventually he would always need to feed. “What of your future? Do you wish to remain within your swamps forever more?” he questioned, wondering if her ambitions were more then simply luring the feeble minded into their sandy tombs.
@Amaltheia

"Zen Speaks"


Art by Centience

Amaltheia

of

6 y/o xlarge Female
Facilifer, Male Poodle moth
©
Her tails whirled like writhing pythons, snapping through the air and consuming the space around them. Amaltheia was a powerful beast that consumed an area by the sheer mass and size of her appendages and yet... Zendelrin managed not to become enraptured, not to bow or back up as the greedy temptations swirled around him like shifting grains of sand before the storm. Such never failed to amuse her, even the filthiest degenerates took a momentary pause to admire the bayou wolf but Zendelrin never did. A liar he was not. Faithful to his beloved he was indeed. An interesting vice for a creature so besotted in vile wickedness.


"'Dere 'dey'll stay, trapped in darkness until ye last breath leaves ya rotting in dis world." Amaltheia crooned, her unseeing eyes surprisingly sharp and omnipotent in the harsh lighting of the groves. She was anything but subtle and the Cheshire grin that ignited her mouth tested the edges of her limitations. "But be warned, Zendelrin, greed is an addiction, a vice that cripples ye even as it gains a collection of trophies, be careful how many treasures ye hoard, be careful how many of de Gods ye anger." Her words were luscious, almost poetic prose. It wasn't a threat, not by her, but it was a genuine warning all the same. There was a difference between a vulpine trickster and a harbinger of sin.


A laugh trickled from her throat, saccharine and pure, a chorus of soothing sounds that bellied the vixen she very much was."Am I teh be ye confessional 'den? A place of sanctity for ye conscious tah rest wit' ease? A cruel joke tah be sure, I am many t'ings but a sin eater I ain't." Amused the words trickled from her tongue like a prayer but the harsh snap of her jaws ensnaring the air around them was anything but tame. Amaltheia was unpredictable at the best of times and currently she was enamored by the hopelessness of her swamps. Such was hardly a place for a confessional.


Even still, she lowered her lithe torso to the ground as he began to speak of his brother and while her torso was... calmed, her tails continued to writhe. Sometimes Amaltheia purposefully controlled them but most of the time they whipped and wove to their own independence. Ironically, despite the rage and contempt he seemed to carry for his brother, Amaltheia could sense more. He seemed more in control, less wild and vaguely she wondered just who needed who. Codependency was a harsh mistress. Perhaps his brother fulfilled something in Zendelrin's breast that not even the monster knew he needed.


"Aye, as ye thought it t'would beh." Amaltheia agreed neutrally but focused on his latter words instead. "Never enough. Da vice of every living bein', even if ya strove for peace, none would ever be peaceful enough. De world does not bend to da will of any one soul... so ye must learn to bend with it if ye ever desire contentment. Otherwise you will spend ye whole life chasin' a euphoria that never did exist." Her ears twitched, her skull cocked to the side and Facilifer moved back behind one long ear. He loved the sound of her voice and he curled close against the top of her crown to better absorb it.


"My future is eva'-changin' a tapestry with no discernible design. Momentary satisfaction, a game of chance, I could vanish at any given moment or I could linger until de Earth claimed meh back. I do not know, I do not want to know." Her grin expanded, revealing flashes of those pearly ivories. "Who want tah live forever?"

"Speech." 'Thoughts.'

table © freakshow



@Zendelrin

Zendelrin

of

8 y/o xlarge Male
©

Her tails would swirl around him like small sirens calling to the predatory desires. They were teasing as they threatened to caress his body in a sea of lust. He was a lucky man to have such a hold on his primitive needs. Many a soul would fall into the bones of her macabre embrace. She would utterly consume their will until they were lost in sea of her embrace. She was a woman of mystery and seduction and if he wasn’t so faithful to his vows then he would have been tempted to explore what could have been.

Her words tickled his ease as she crooned about his trophies. It was a vice that was dangerous. They were the evidence of his transgressions and yet he couldn’t help but retrieve one each and every time. The need to relive each and every kill was like a drug. He was hooked on the reminder of how he had completely consumed the souls those trophies belonged to. That he was their salvation and liberation from this world and onto the next. He was the devils harbinger of lost souls and it would be the death of him some day.

Her warning wasn’t something he had honestly believed himself. However, if his creator didn’t wish for him to deliver the souls of the damned to him then why had he made him this way? It was a double-edged sword that he walked to diligently on. Her question almost made him laugh. Was she his confessional? No, he simply afforded her the luxury of knowing the truth of him. Why hide it when she had seen it in its raw nature? Did it feel good to admit the skeletons that hide within the reapers closet? Perhaps, but the knowledge of it had been afforded mostly to his wife. Well, most of his sins anyway.

“A confessional you are not. Indeed, it is quite difficult to consume the sins of others when you yourself have similar sins.” He said with a retort. His words held a hint of amusement at the idea of her being someone priestess. Perhaps she could put on such a façade of comfort before she stripped her victims of their consciousness before molding them into her golems. She was a ferocity that enticed him and he wanted nothing more to maintain their dynamic. Should he raise a kingdom from the ashes of yesterday then perhaps she would honor him by joining his ranks.

The thoughts of his idiotic brother were in fact infuriating. The chase was frustrating but the means justified the end. The feel of him convulsing beneath him as he breathed the violence into him was euphoric in a way. The knowledge that he had forged the need so deeply into that writhing pile of wreckage was something he couldn’t help but find pride in. He wondered if he could recreate the same dependency in another wolf. Would it be so easy to break them as it had his brother?

“My vices are indeed difficult to.. Ignore. However, I have found ways to cope with the need until I cannot.” He said with a shrug. Eventually he needed to steal the life from someone. Blood only soothed the need in him for so long. The hunt was far to precious a thing to ignore and the work it took building relationships to watch them be devoured by his own jaws was far too satisfying to ever let go. “As for living forever, well, I would like to live until the world burns beneath the wrath of the gods that built it.” he said with amusement. His tail flicked as he allowed an annoyed sigh to escape his jaws.

“Care to assist me in retrieving what I have misplaced within your swamps.” He asked, wanting to find his brother and continue on searching for Sonja. They had only been home for a little while but the need to at least see her was beginning to nag at him. Would she be eager to see him or would she turn from him? His shadows hissed with their annoyance at his thoughts and attempted to draw back his attention at the task at hand.


@Amaltheia

"Zen Speaks"


Art by Centience

Amaltheia

of

6 y/o xlarge Female
Facilifer, Male Poodle moth
©
Her seduction was subtle, a whirling temptation of tantalizing touches and a subtle embrace but never once had Zendelrin succumbed to her danger. Her tails danced across hs fur, teasing him with velveteen caresses but he remained resolute. Quietly, she respected him for it... not for his vows. Voms were just words, calloused lies embroiling layers of 'commitment' but how could anyone claim as such? Did their eyes not wander? Did scents not tantalize the nose? Did the taste of a bitch in heat not saturate the tongue like a sweet perfume? Temptation and want was all it took to incinerate a vow and those who said otherwise were naught but clever liars.


Still, she could hear him thinking, could feel the way his mind brooded on her Cajun-styled tongue and even as Facilifer shifted, scuttering across her skull to better see what Amaltheia could not, the damsel merely paused, her hollow eyes boring down unto Zendelrin without ever actually seeing him. Priestess she was not... not unless one hailed her the Priestess of Depravity. She rather liked that title... but was it really depravity? A desire to give in to instinct and temptation? Amaltheia liked to think not. She shuddered and Facilifer's soft wings caressed one of her long ears. "Aye, unless I remain da' legendary sin eater. Perhaps I consume de wrongdoings of o'ders so that 'dey may move on from 'dis life to 'de next." A Cheshire grin split the seam of her mouth as she challenged his logic, curious as to what he would say. "What some will do for da promise of absolution... might make ye shudder." Her jaws snapped together with an audible click before she pulled away from him entirely.


They spoke of the beasts brother and Amaltheia could feel the way Zendelrin trembled in rage. Only once had she witnessed the spiraling lack of control from the beast and instead of finding curiosity in it, she found only disappointment. Rage was an emotion that could not be contained or controlled, it spiraled beyond her temptations and folly, making it dreadfully unfun to play with... still, she would not bereft him the maniacal bond he possessed with his family. They were all entitled to their vices now weren't they?


She laughed, a low and incredibly sultry sound. "Aye, ye find ya pleasure in the ensnarement of fools. The blood of plebeians so far beneath ye stature... but dat will only soothe ye spirit for so long. Ye have a hunger Zendelrin." She punctuated every syllable of his name with a sharp click of her tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Thirsty... ravenous... full. For now de blood and pain sates ye belly but one day it will nae be enough. One day ye will have to consume pieces of yeself." What it a prophecy, was it a fact or was she merely toying with him? Impossible to know.


"Ye know how to live forever? De true elixir of immortality? Make enough heirs so ye blood never leaves dis plain of existence. 'Den when de God's return and da fires consume de world... your essence will still be 'ere to witness it." She rumbled with a sardonic grin before stepping forward... graceful and poised, elegant despite her blindness. "Come, we find ye brethren, I'll take ye through da swamps."

"Speech." 'Thoughts.'

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@Zendelrin





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