IP: 121.219.7.228
Posted on November 3, 2013 at 05:25:16 PM by Alphonse.
I'll kill the king just for a taste of copper
It is strange to think that even within a pack, more groups form separate of the larger congregation. I had done so with Solaris, though our group was considerably smaller; now, I had found Boleyn and even the boy, Magnus. I had, of course, claimed them as my own, removing them from Isola's possession and into my own - they were more suited for I, a better fit I was sure. Solaris... I am not too sure how he was born of Isola and Kane, though he is not as I am, either. Still, he is not so tender as they, not as ineffective but still... Boleyn and Magnus suit me even better than he. Within this pack, I am forming my own. It is strange to think but I cannot help but smile smugly to myself, knowing full well that my developments go unnoticed. It is good to learn these things, the ways in which others are weak so that I may never fall into such traps. I am positive that weakness is a plague, and I have avoided it thus far. I am neither weak in mind or body; lately, I have noticed my own strength. Faster, stronger, taller... I've avoided the weakness that plagues Diveen and for that, I am glad.
I have been awake for some time before I hear that familiar hum, a tune I have grown accustomed to over the year of my life. It is my mother and certainly, there is no question over it; I know her voice well, and I know her habits just as well, too. I shift about in the den, facing out from the darkness with a look of intrigue; Ayal is not here, and neither is Anselm, so it is I that she has surely come to seek out. Honestly, it is surprising. I have always considered myself the least favored of children; I have grown accustomed to living in the darkness of Ayal's shadow, after all. Still, she has come and she speaks down into the darkness, summoning me. We have business. We have things to do. I am not sure what, but I shan't question it.
"Imo."
Yes. It is all I say as I rise from the shadows, spilling out of the den to stand wearily at her feet. I watch up at her, attempting to decipher whatever I can from her features; I'm not sure what she speaks of. What is there for us to do? I tilt my head slowly, narrowing my eyes as I watch her.
"Quid agimus?"
What are we doing? I speak quietly, suspiciously even as I glance behind her, checking our surroundings for others. I do not like the idea of others watching us, or even being near us; she is my mother, and this task is mine alone.
I have been awake for some time before I hear that familiar hum, a tune I have grown accustomed to over the year of my life. It is my mother and certainly, there is no question over it; I know her voice well, and I know her habits just as well, too. I shift about in the den, facing out from the darkness with a look of intrigue; Ayal is not here, and neither is Anselm, so it is I that she has surely come to seek out. Honestly, it is surprising. I have always considered myself the least favored of children; I have grown accustomed to living in the darkness of Ayal's shadow, after all. Still, she has come and she speaks down into the darkness, summoning me. We have business. We have things to do. I am not sure what, but I shan't question it.
"Imo."
Yes. It is all I say as I rise from the shadows, spilling out of the den to stand wearily at her feet. I watch up at her, attempting to decipher whatever I can from her features; I'm not sure what she speaks of. What is there for us to do? I tilt my head slowly, narrowing my eyes as I watch her.
"Quid agimus?"
What are we doing? I speak quietly, suspiciously even as I glance behind her, checking our surroundings for others. I do not like the idea of others watching us, or even being near us; she is my mother, and this task is mine alone.
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