Faith in their hands shall snap in two,
And the unicorn evils run them through;
And the unicorn evils run them through;
His blood is calling her home. She can hear the notes of it, echoing beneath the falling stars like drum. Her magic hears it too and it starts to drag sharp teeth along the edges of her ribs. It whispers poetry to that song, poetry and wolf-howls.
Like a tuning fork her horn angles towards it.
She steps closer with the fury running strings though her joints. It feels like they are on this perilous cliff, each looking out at the sea and tossing two different wishes into the white froth. Thana looks beyond him to the sloping lines of the stars and wishes that there would be something other than hunger drawn out in those tangled lines of light.
It had seemed like home, waiting beneath the summer halo of the forest with Ipomoea waiting for the sun to set. It had seemed like her hunger had found a new home.
But she was wrong, so wrong. It drives her closer, closer, closer to him.
And then he looks down. It is the thing that saves him, the head drop of a thing lost to sorrow instead of life. “It was easier when you were gone.” She says the words to his empty brow, each note twisted with echoes of his blood-song. There are too many teeth in the words and in the bitterness hanging on her lips like fermented wine. Part of her wants to touch him again, to lower her horn to his cheek and angle him back up to the dim moons (and part of her knows she would not be able to stop herself from dinging deeper, and deeper, and deeper into his cheek).
She would not stop until she met sinew, and bone, and teeth, and blood.
“It feels like home.” She answers. There is no image to the word for her, only the feeling of rot, and death, and chaos reaching through the world like mist. Home is wild, and dangerous, and full of hungry things like her that look at boys like home is between their bones. Home is full of their teeth on throats and their bellies full of marrow and stone.
Eligos turn his gaze onto the stallion. It lands with the sort of weight that only comes with the intimate knowledge of all the things beneath it. There is a fire in the golden glare of it, and wrath when the monster bares his teeth. Thana pulls away as Eligos steps forward.
And maybe that's all it takes, the sight of a monster made for a belly full of flesh instead of magic stepping forward to the kill she does not want to make (not really, not where she's a girl instead of a thing made). Her tail slices a warning down Eligos's hip.
Come away. She flashes an imagine of her dragging his body into the dirt with teeth, and fury, and not an ounce of fear.
The monster steps back. Thana tries not to notice the squaring of Asterion's shoulder, the boldness of his gaze as it finds he again, and the way his stars look brighter than all the others around them. She tries not sing back the song his blood is singing to her.
“Do not find me again Asterion.”. Because she wonders what Ipomoea would think she she found him with the blood of a once king on her lips. She wonders how long this world will survive if she lets lose the magic in Asterion's blood.
Thana does not think it would be long.
The ground still moans as she walks away with stars falling all around her form like balls of arcane and ancient fire. Eligos follows with blood blooming on the wound of her warning. Neither of them look back.
"Speaking." @Asterion
Like a tuning fork her horn angles towards it.
She steps closer with the fury running strings though her joints. It feels like they are on this perilous cliff, each looking out at the sea and tossing two different wishes into the white froth. Thana looks beyond him to the sloping lines of the stars and wishes that there would be something other than hunger drawn out in those tangled lines of light.
It had seemed like home, waiting beneath the summer halo of the forest with Ipomoea waiting for the sun to set. It had seemed like her hunger had found a new home.
But she was wrong, so wrong. It drives her closer, closer, closer to him.
And then he looks down. It is the thing that saves him, the head drop of a thing lost to sorrow instead of life. “It was easier when you were gone.” She says the words to his empty brow, each note twisted with echoes of his blood-song. There are too many teeth in the words and in the bitterness hanging on her lips like fermented wine. Part of her wants to touch him again, to lower her horn to his cheek and angle him back up to the dim moons (and part of her knows she would not be able to stop herself from dinging deeper, and deeper, and deeper into his cheek).
She would not stop until she met sinew, and bone, and teeth, and blood.
“It feels like home.” She answers. There is no image to the word for her, only the feeling of rot, and death, and chaos reaching through the world like mist. Home is wild, and dangerous, and full of hungry things like her that look at boys like home is between their bones. Home is full of their teeth on throats and their bellies full of marrow and stone.
Eligos turn his gaze onto the stallion. It lands with the sort of weight that only comes with the intimate knowledge of all the things beneath it. There is a fire in the golden glare of it, and wrath when the monster bares his teeth. Thana pulls away as Eligos steps forward.
And maybe that's all it takes, the sight of a monster made for a belly full of flesh instead of magic stepping forward to the kill she does not want to make (not really, not where she's a girl instead of a thing made). Her tail slices a warning down Eligos's hip.
Come away. She flashes an imagine of her dragging his body into the dirt with teeth, and fury, and not an ounce of fear.
The monster steps back. Thana tries not to notice the squaring of Asterion's shoulder, the boldness of his gaze as it finds he again, and the way his stars look brighter than all the others around them. She tries not sing back the song his blood is singing to her.
“Do not find me again Asterion.”. Because she wonders what Ipomoea would think she she found him with the blood of a once king on her lips. She wonders how long this world will survive if she lets lose the magic in Asterion's blood.
Thana does not think it would be long.
The ground still moans as she walks away with stars falling all around her form like balls of arcane and ancient fire. Eligos follows with blood blooming on the wound of her warning. Neither of them look back.
