Yes, do be careful. Very careful.

The impenetrable black of her hide glistened in eerie swatches of blue in the impending darkness of twilight, casting her in a more sinister light than could ever have been achieved in the telling light of day. This horrifying glisten extended to the darkened spheres that inhabited her orbital sockets when she turned towards the mahogany stallion as he approached from behind the foreboding curtain of darkness. Cue Stranger, stage right. And then Schizophrenia did something that was wildly outside the dodgy parameters of her persona, instead of remaining stationary and allowing the curious stallion to make his approach, she took immediate action, one ironclad hoof in front of the other, until she was standing before him, a veritable fortress with her muscles drawn taut beneath the black expanse of her pelt. She stood there, a smile accenting her dark and beautiful features, as he serenaded her with his clichéd mantra. At the mention of his fur-clad companion, Schizophrenia dropped her scrupulous gaze to the blood-hued canine at his feet. The black skin of her muzzle nearly touched the glistening nose of the wolf as Schizophrenia drew a deep, lingering inhale, absorbing and cataloging the aroma of the she-wolf. And as her head ascended to its upright position, the mustelid at her side drew himself forward, placing his own hefty figure between that of his partner and the female axian, fore body drawn up so that they were at eye level with one another. Leviathan did not growl, nor did a smile crinkle the flesh of his stripped face; in fact, the only movement he made at all was the slow, tantalizing way he drew his fleshy tongue over a row of needle-point teeth. The ghastly squelching that resulted from this tease served as the only noise for a dilatory moment before she spoke, her voice, low though it was, resounded spectacularly.

“I haven’t been here long at all, and already I’ve attracted more attention than I’d ever dared hope for.”

Her voice reeked of sarcasm and faux-sincerity, and she made no attempt to conceal it. After all, she hardly looked the part of a being who relished the company of others, much less was she someone who actively sought such company.

“Oh, but where have my manners gone… this is Leviathan, and I am Schizophrenia. And what, might I ask, has brought you here?”

NONIUS | 8 YEARS
COMPANION TO LEVIATHAN | AMERICAN BADGER [WATER]