the dark night of the predators
It has always been said that the night is a dangerous thing to love. Tonight the darkness seems more dangerous than the blackness of the night before it. Everything feels electric, charged with the fury of a storm that's just now starting to roar like a wounded lion out over the distant sea.
There is no moonlight to dapple the canopy of the forest outside the swamps, no moisture to dampen the thick bed of dead leaves and pine-needles. The sky is darker than it has ever been. All the stars have been swallowed up by the thick clouds full with the promise of rain. Behind those clouds a shower of meteors streaks across the sky, but tonight they are not for mortals to see.
Were it not for that approaching storm, the forest and swamp would have been full of Ilati and Shed-stars dancing like pagans before their bonfires. Bone song and the whisper of tarot cards would have run though the night like bells, chanting-- come and see what your future hold. But the storm is coming and all the pagans and old-believers are hiding in their beds.
They know that the heaviness of this night will bring only death, only suffering.
Tonight is for predators.
Lilith of course knows this, and she alone moves through the thickest shadows below the trees. In the canopy above her squirrels snap at their young to be silent and owls turn their heads into their downy feathers so that the wolf might no even ear the whisper of air through their lungs. All the rabbits have long since buried themselves deep underground where they shiver and shake to hear the quiet padding of lupine paws above their heads.
The entire forest bows before the danger of Lilith and her teeth ache with a hunger sharp enough to make her feel like a god. But it's not her belly that aches, it's something deeper (deeper than her heart, her bones and her blood). The wolf's soul aches as if a arrow has been shot clear through the center of her. It feels as if that arrow is attached to a string that tugs and yanks at her.
Her soul whispers to her, just a little further and you will be full. On and on she walks, driven by that aching hunger. She walks until a young and foolish stag crashes through the corpse of birch trees. And then she's running as swift as the wind through the trees (swifter than the storm over the sea). Lilith runs because she's hoping the ache is a lie and it's really only basic hunger that drives her on and on and on.
But then....
Oh then!!
Euryale crashes through the trees ahead (on the same deer-trail as the wolf). Ribbons sail behind her like the loveliest shadows Lilith has ever seen. The ache in her lupine heart sharpens to a point and bursts inside her like a dying star. Suddenly Lilith isn't hungry anymore and she doesn't feel like a lonely god stalking the forest.
She only feels full in a way that no deer or rabbit could ever make her feel.
“Euryale.” The name sounds like a prayer in her mind and she hopes that the mare will hear her. Lilith prays that the predator mare will also have something bursting inside her like a star.
Perhaps it's the memory of hunger that makes her quicken and burst through the trees in a leap that makes it seem as if she might have wings arching from her fur. Lilith doesn't question what drives her to latch her teeth around the stag's though and send it crashing to ground.
It's there she waits (standing like a guard over the dying stag) for Euryale to join her and take the first taste of their kill.
There is no moonlight to dapple the canopy of the forest outside the swamps, no moisture to dampen the thick bed of dead leaves and pine-needles. The sky is darker than it has ever been. All the stars have been swallowed up by the thick clouds full with the promise of rain. Behind those clouds a shower of meteors streaks across the sky, but tonight they are not for mortals to see.
Were it not for that approaching storm, the forest and swamp would have been full of Ilati and Shed-stars dancing like pagans before their bonfires. Bone song and the whisper of tarot cards would have run though the night like bells, chanting-- come and see what your future hold. But the storm is coming and all the pagans and old-believers are hiding in their beds.
They know that the heaviness of this night will bring only death, only suffering.
Tonight is for predators.
Lilith of course knows this, and she alone moves through the thickest shadows below the trees. In the canopy above her squirrels snap at their young to be silent and owls turn their heads into their downy feathers so that the wolf might no even ear the whisper of air through their lungs. All the rabbits have long since buried themselves deep underground where they shiver and shake to hear the quiet padding of lupine paws above their heads.
The entire forest bows before the danger of Lilith and her teeth ache with a hunger sharp enough to make her feel like a god. But it's not her belly that aches, it's something deeper (deeper than her heart, her bones and her blood). The wolf's soul aches as if a arrow has been shot clear through the center of her. It feels as if that arrow is attached to a string that tugs and yanks at her.
Her soul whispers to her, just a little further and you will be full. On and on she walks, driven by that aching hunger. She walks until a young and foolish stag crashes through the corpse of birch trees. And then she's running as swift as the wind through the trees (swifter than the storm over the sea). Lilith runs because she's hoping the ache is a lie and it's really only basic hunger that drives her on and on and on.
But then....
Oh then!!
Euryale crashes through the trees ahead (on the same deer-trail as the wolf). Ribbons sail behind her like the loveliest shadows Lilith has ever seen. The ache in her lupine heart sharpens to a point and bursts inside her like a dying star. Suddenly Lilith isn't hungry anymore and she doesn't feel like a lonely god stalking the forest.
She only feels full in a way that no deer or rabbit could ever make her feel.
“Euryale.” The name sounds like a prayer in her mind and she hopes that the mare will hear her. Lilith prays that the predator mare will also have something bursting inside her like a star.
Perhaps it's the memory of hunger that makes her quicken and burst through the trees in a leap that makes it seem as if she might have wings arching from her fur. Lilith doesn't question what drives her to latch her teeth around the stag's though and send it crashing to ground.
It's there she waits (standing like a guard over the dying stag) for Euryale to join her and take the first taste of their kill.
@Euryale finds herself strangely hungry just as a summer storm starts to build over the sea. Strange really that she might be driven to the forests outside the swamp on a night where no moon or stars dare to shine. Everything might feel electric, as if the forest holds between a storm more dangerous than the looming thunder storm.
Just as a finds a young stag to chase her hunting will be interrupted by the appearance of Lilith. a timber wolf. But the wolf waits by her kill, waiting for Euryale to join her. Perhaps it wasn't hunger driving her into the forest tonight after-all?
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Thank you for giving me such a darkly lush setting and idea to work with <3
Enjoy! -nestle
Just as a finds a young stag to chase her hunting will be interrupted by the appearance of Lilith. a timber wolf. But the wolf waits by her kill, waiting for Euryale to join her. Perhaps it wasn't hunger driving her into the forest tonight after-all?
How to tag this account: @*'Random Events' without the asterisk!
Once you respond, you may begin including Lilith in your IC posts.
Enjoy! -nestle
Please be advised, tagging the Random Event account does not guarantee a response!
