[AW]  Looking Glass Latibule

Ialu

8 y/o medium Male

Hopeless souls play a part in my wicked work of art
The ocean cracked like thundering whips across the legs that bolstered the Ravine lands to its place; roaring waves which bellowed like some snoring ancient that rocked and paced on curled, wizened feet. Sensitive ears, long and pointed, turned to flee against the palest of heads as the trees swayed in winter breeze and the waves crashed against the sidelines, jarring to shove on rock it hadn't yet been able to move. After his first exchange between he and the pastel woman, the strange man had taken his leave from her abrupt, intruding, yet not wholly unwanted company to travel west and thus now he found his ghostly countenance upon the Ravine Path traveling further into Nidria's heart. The trees grew crooked the closer one got to the tempting edge while earthen grasses shivered with distinct sound as the taut compaction of oak kept much snow from arriving on the ground; it was breezy but quaint, quiet and yet a lingering eeriness of with which the scar-eyed albino only made that much more so. For then at that time, he felt content to simply idle in his direction, and so he sat to lean timid, lanky body against an obliging bark, and listened to the water talk as it hissed in comfortable bliss and thrashing ripples.

Time past meaninglessly. What one would not find, however, meaningless was the systematic responses of the body and how, at any given point of rest, hunger would no sooner be there to follow in its footsteps, like a rapping upon a white and pristine door. 

An ear flicked, swiveling forward before then both would roll back around on their heels and press forward towards the ocean's slumbering blue. His head turned, not to the left, nor to the right, but upwards and above him while slender muzzle revealed precious throat to the open as roseate irises gazed at the boughs of the forest world which lived over him. Pale, white hair fell against his body and over his sides, serpentine strands kissing along the roots of the ground as they snaked away from the body to draw themselves out from the dark colors of the earth. The sweet sing song voices that ran through the branches made one ear delicately twitch, listening to the twittering call of the birds which lived within the ravine's strong trees, sheltered from most of the outside they were oblivious even to the predator, even as he whistled softly; something dark and mysterious and puzzling unheard over the music of the ocean as it gnashed its frothing teeth.

It was anyone's guess as to where they came from, or why they followed him.

Not even the pestilent man himself could gift thought, but then again, why question power if it is given to you? A slow, thoughtful smile crept upon a handsome face and along the elongation of his muzzle as he lowered his head, eyes closing. Then, they came; first one, then another. A handful at best but all that had been needed with the command of the man's call as akin to practiced lapdog's did they look upon the ghostly figure of their master with glittering eyes from upon snake like grove floorboards, skittering across the forest floor and up the bark of the trees and into the boughs and the belly of the trunks and around, and around, and around. 

An ear turned once more. The forest croaked with sudden activity, the fluttering of wings taking flight, the screeching of surprise. Then a heavy, sudden silence creaked with the sway of the trees as movement dispersed once more like the rippling of the waves on the surface of the water. Thud cam an abrupt sound as it scraped from fallen heavens, hitting the earth with such gravity that it caused blood to shudder from the body of the creature, already killed in the midst of the treetops where the rats had temporary reign over; their bodies becoming one with the branches as they snaked over new territory with gnarled paws and curled tails. The pale man's body moved, rising from his place of rest to gather himself before the dead squirrel with a slight perversion of perplexity showing on his calm features.

It hadn't been exactly what he had cared for, but it would do. And so, he gently picked up the squirrel's body to lay it over one leg as he reclined his body to lay where it had fallen, placing the other leg over top possessively as he began to pick it apart to still the hunger in his belly.


Speech




Ialu's Accelerated Hearing allows his ears to process sound at such a rate that he could 
hear a caught gasp of breathe as an entire exhale and discern it enough with time to react to whatever caused said sound.
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Therion

4 y/o medium Male

THERION


He was very much a wandering man, and with each passing day it seemed more and more like his pawprints may eventually cover the entirety of Nidria. He didn't mind traveling, certainly preferred it over settling down somewhere, but it did grow exhausting after a while. Such was the way of life, he supposed, when you had no where you felt you belonged, no establishment to slumber beneath each night, and no pack or family to watch your back. No, he wasn't really complaining, because he liked the solitude--to an extent--but from an outsider's perspective, Therion figured it looked quite sad.

Not that he'd ever cared about what any outsider thought of him. The opinions of others meant little.

Still, there were times when he'd had enough. Perhaps it was simple frustration at the circumstances of his birth. His mother wanted so little to do with her own newborn child that she fled at the first moment she was able, and his father was always so wrapped up in his own research over bonding with his son that it ultimately killed him. There were no permanents in his life, people came and went. Such was even evident in the form of his own "familiar" that he'd created out of envy toward the Magicka. The small golden fox--Katalina, he called her--could only ever appear for a few minutes at his side before conjuring her grew to be too much for his body to handle and she dissipated. As a Horse, he was truly isolated, damned to his own solitude it seemed. The only constant in his life were those golden sparks, like fireflies, that drifted lazily around him, but they were hardly corporeal and meant very little.

The sound of the crashing waves diverted him from his angsting, and Therion lifted his head to gaze out over the waves that the earth dropped off into. A shimmering off to the side caught his eye, and he turned to observe the pile of ivory fur curled beneath one of the trees. At a glance, the creature might've been deemed a spectre, its fur pale and ghostly and movements slow, fluid. Closer investigation, however, revealed that it was very much another wolf. Its build wasn't much like Therion's own, a mane of icy threads cascaded over its body. He knew immediately that this creature also had a connection to the Horse, and its appearance was very much fitting.

It seemed to be enjoying a meal, and Therion briefly considered turning and finding somewhere else to brood, but curiosity got the better of him. Perhaps it was this creature's strange appearance, or perhaps because watching it dine reminded him of the hunger plucking at his own belly. Where there were trees, there was bound to be food. Small game, nothing extremely fulfilling, but Therion would take what he could get at this point. He twitched his elongated ears, bowing his head as he approached the other wolf and cleared his throat. "If I didn't know better, I'd think I'd just stumbled across a ghost and not another intelligent lifeform," he scoffed, eyeing the stranger's gaunt form. "Perhaps I should hunt elsewhere. By the looks of it, you'd benefit from eating every single squirrel in this stretch of the woods."

"Words" || thoughts


ooc ;; none
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Ialu

8 y/o medium Male

Hopeless souls play a part in my wicked work of art
Long had it been since sustenance had been made and the wine glasses filled to their brim; bloodstained lips bared in their crimson kiss as he tipped his goblet and sipped from ancient barrels finely crested, maroon substance running down the length of a white throat and gently pressing its thumb along the rim of a delicate jawline. Though it was meager in its fulfilling nature, it hadn't been the first and it certainly would never be the last that the man made do with what little he was given, but fast did he partake in this ritual of predation as any animal with hungry jaws would approach a fresh meal, and he gobbled it up with deep and instinctual gratitude. What lay barren and torn upon the hide of the rodent prey were but few bones, fur, and whatnot as he stretched rather lethargically where he lay upon the ground, tail curling around one lithe hind legs as he meandered his body along, as one married to its barren earth would do; front toes outstretching on either side of the remnants from his meal, and then digging estranged feet into the soil. 

Lips stained red parted with a menial yawn, tongue rolling over the white jagged tips of his teeth before snapping closed slowly, flinging bits of blood here and there, though he had little time to weigh the option of slumber before a voice caused one ear to turn slowly atop the man's head, eyes only slightly narrowing as he listened. If i didn't know better, he decided to start conversation in a strange manner, I'd think I'd just stumbled across a ghost and not another intelligent lifeform. Laying stretched out still one leg slipped to the opposite side and slid the fragments of his leftover tidbits away from his presence before crossing over his other leg as he then presented the pleasantly colored stranger with his undivided attention; ears pressed attentively towards him as, with a slight tilt that left his head at an angle, he blinked at the other's words.

Perhaps I should hunt elsewhere. Ialu inhaled slowly, taking in the scent of the forest, the blood on his features, as well as that of the man's smell as he continued, By the looks of it, you'd benefit from eating every single squirrel in this stretch of the woods. Oh? Bloodied mouth parted gently to elicit this small mocking sound, tail rolling over the ground to unfurl long tresses in his wake, spreading them out like pale snow that moved. Lips curved into a humored smile as he chuckled, then, tongue slipping out from his jaws to wipe, with futile and basic lack of care, the blood on his face and only then gaining some and smearing the rest across the white above his jowls. Gluttony is a sin, you know. His half-lidded gaze crinkled with amusement at his jest, scarred eyes peering down at the ground as he studied his own paws with gentle, blurry scrutiny. The stranger did not smell of those with which the rainbow clad woman had spoken of, though then again he had not yet learned to distinguish them, for this man, too, smelled as she did. Mundane.

Although he could openly speak of the mundane woman with this mundane man, he chose to place them in separate categories, for now, his eyes tracing themselves back to the hazy figure before him, Moreover, squirrels are not my forte, he chided idly, before switching the topic entirely. 

And who might I be speaking to?


Speech




Ialu's Accelerated Hearing allows his ears to process sound at such a rate that he could 
hear a caught gasp of breathe as an entire exhale and discern it enough with time to react to whatever caused said sound.
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Therion

4 y/o medium Male

THERION

Everything about this stranger was graceful and delicate. He moved with a distinguished slowness, as if he might shatter all over the ground were his movements too quick. Therion found him interesting to watch, intriguing almost. He was beautiful in the same way the ghost of an estranged woman was, beautiful, haunting, and intimidating. Therion decided immediately that he did not fully trust this man, but being in his presence also couldn't be too bad, because he smelled of the equine affinity. Because of that, there was a strange kinship that Therion felt, but that bond was nearly paper-thin, and any sudden movements or actions could quickly extinguish that.

He spoke just as slowly as Therion would expect, like he had all the time in the world. He snorted at the suggestion that gluttony was a sin. "I don't believe in sins," he stated firmly, "but even if I did, I'm sure no god would approve of starving oneself for his sake." He wasn't being very nice, and he was wholly aware of that. He'd just met this man, and he was already insulting his appearance, and apparently his religion. He scolded himself for it, half-heartedly, because he didn't really care what was thought of him, but he also knew he needed to shape up his attitude, too. One of these days he would be met with fangs in response rather than words, and though he was confident in his abilities, it was always wise to avoid fights (and picking them) whenever one could.

However, it seemed like this stranger didn't want to linger on the topic of his diet, directing the conversation in Therion's direction. It seemed like enough of an invitation to linger for a while, and it was an excuse to exercise his voice a little. After spending so long traveling in isolation, with no companions to be found, it grew scratchy and rough from disuse. It was possible it might just shut off one day, and Therion wouldn't be surprised in the slightest. That hadn't happened yet, though, and he supposed as long as it worked, he might as well use it whenever the opportunity arose. He sat down on his haunches, slowly wrapped his long tail around his front legs. The soft white tuft at the end covered his paws like a fluffy blanket. "You may call me Therion," he said simply. "Who I am beyond that is currently none of your business." It didn't hurt to give a name, but anything else would have to be earned through trust, or forcefully pulled from his throat. "It's only fair that I ask you the same question."
"Words" || thoughts


ooc ;; none
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