[ P ] darkest before dawn

Aph was careful to keep a distance between him and the Fae Forest's eaves, lest he encounter its guardian a second time. He couldn't afford the delay, despite his curiosity, with an assignment demanding his attention. Still, the temptation was there like a choke chain wrung around his neck trying to drag him backwards whilst his paws fought to resist.

Only through the combination of mental fortitude and discipline was he successful; the tangled trees, their shadows, and the sense that pupilless eyes were following him vanished with the setting sun. In the darkness settling over the lowlands, Aphelion found his thoughts were as free and unbound as the stars scattered across the endless indigo expanse. It gave him the chance to puzzle over Professor Harwick's task—namely, what the dobber was thinking when he decided the class would be given a mere two days to travel to the braid, research the recently reported phenomena, and still manage to return in time to present their findings. He suspected the scholar's sour breath was more than a little responsible, unconvinced he had any grasp on time at all when his only reason for leaving the tavern was to give a barely comprehensible lecture.

As there was little Aph could do regardless, he'd left promptly after dismissal. One pitstop later to get Friction settled in with Grigori and here he now was, venturing further south than he'd ever trekked on his own.

The cabin was hardly what the rumors made it out to be. It looked like any other abode, though signs of neglect were obvious. But truth was often borne in fiction, so he wasn't letting down his guard as the pale lad stepped through the curtain of spores and into the unknown.

code // art

Why had he even bothered returning to this land? Time and time again it had proven no better than those he fled from. Beasts still lurked in shadows with jaws agape, ready to snap and snare. Lyrics still rose upon lashing tongues, tempting his own festering ire to spark to life and drip from his lips in envenomed phrase. And yet… it hardly ever did.

Judgments subdued lest he believed another to hold similar ranking as he, the same status drilled continuously into the furthest reaches of his cerebrum whilst dwelling beneath the Drih'liri’s talons. Everyone is your better. Acting out of turn spelled your demise, merely a punishment if you were lucky. If he were not careful surely the very same awaited him out here. A mentality which left a hound clinging to a sole rational thought.

All he crossed could not be trusted.
Their jumbled phrase as wicked as what brewed beneath the surface. For monsters lingered amidst the living.

Even one he dared to find a fleeting inkling of comfort in, one who’s company had been tolerable each time they’d met. Perhaps even he harbored ill intent. No matter how Leslie wished to believe in the grave keeper’s secrets. Thinking on it now only brought torn ears to preen back against his skull as if that alone would banish it from mind, at least for a little while for it was best to do without distraction in lands so unknown.

Stilted paces swift as the pale hound strode into the depths of the marsh. Paranoid glances cast behind him every few moments as if to ensure no other chased his paths. Ears flicking, swiveling; constantly alert - even more so when the faint scent of decomposition drifted along the breeze. For a moment it brought him pause, contemplating his options that came with such detections. While one was never proud of scavenging for scraps - more or less pulling from the realm’s dumpster - it was better than withering entirely. Something was always better than nothing.

Cautiously he crept onward, steps slowing exponentially when the broken cabin came into view and yet the call from within forced one to push aside reservation of entering. Slender limbs passing over the threshold only to spy a flash of color amidst the darkness. One as snow laden as he, however, this boy was neither dead nor dying. Was it he who stashed a hoard here? Or was this one merely competition for whatever meager banquet may lie within? There was one way to find out. Slinking forth a voice rose upon foreign accented tone, “Svabol re wux tirir tenpiswo ferinix sprite?” (What are you doing here snow sprite?)

Weeping Angel

Silence encroaches over the land, any sound once present fading away into the nothingness until it is shattered by a womans anguished cries. This mournful song all which fills your ears and beckons comforts lost. While barely visible in the flickering light you can spy a hunched figure, however; the longer you gaze upon her seemingly pristine frame - the more that appears utterly wrong. Forelimbs lay distorted, twisting to cover a tear stricken face in a gruesome shroud of talons. Though as if feeling your eyes upon her those misshapen limbs slowly fall, a haunting visage turning to meet your gaze with an enraged shriek.

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There are two options for this encounter, Fight or Flee!

To engage with the monster please post in #updates.

To run simply post as normal to evade the beast and continue on with your thread. Any creature spawned after the first can be ignored entirely if desired.