A Different Kind Of Prey

Wretched Gods
Divine Fools

Larkspur took to the inner sanctum of the Fae Forest as soon as she was able to explore about on her own. There was this deep hum beneath the earth somewhere far down that kept her paws moving. The trees had it too. This forest was alive. She moved between the undergrowth of ferns and flora, stalking any sort of small movement that arose between the trees. It was mostly squirrels and small birds, they were all too fast for her to catch. Just wait until I'm older...I'll snap your necks easily then... After all, the eldest females of their Coven were starting to teach them practical skill. By the time she was grown up, she had no doubt she would make an easily treat or toy out of the critters of the woods.

As she explored, she found an interesting clearing with a set of boulders covered in thick mosses that seemed to draw different colored butterflies to them. Now those were something she might be able to hunt on her own. Lark lowered herself to the ground, shifting against the forest floor as she crawled up to where a butterfly was to land. Her hindquarters wriggled as she prepared to pounce when she heard paw steps from nearby and they were much larger sounding than any one of her siblings. Lifting herself curiously to peer around the rocks, she saw the strangest flicker of white fur with stripes of flame licking along a pelt. What is that...? Larkspur lowered herself back down the ground and began to stalk this creature instead, curiosity moving her to follow it.

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@Summit

"The familiar taste of poison."

A

nother day was hurrying by in the Fae Forest, as Rhiannon moved alone along a trail worn by travel. With each passing day, Rhiannon awaited her Sapphire’s return. It felt as if ages had passed since the raven had delivered Nimue’s message. She worried, naturally, but Rhiannon had a new focus for now, in the form of Yvaine’s trio of roly-poly pups that grew like weeds each day. She was disappointed still by the boys that had been born. But Rhiannon's adoration of the single female of the litter only grew along with her distaste for the girl's brothers.

Larkspur was an adventurous child – perhaps too adventurous for someone still so small. She was scarcely old enough to walk before she was ready to be out in the world, exploring everything around her in the Fae Forest. Rhiannon worried what could become of a pup so young. But Rhiannon was reluctant to stifle the girl’s spirit, one that was already fiery and feisty. She was not Rhiannon’s blood, but the priestess adored the pup with the fierceness of a mother. Only the gods could protect any wolf who dared to hurt dear Larkspur.

Of course, it helped the girl’s case that she was the only girl of the trio born to Yvaine. The two boys she had been born with, there beneath the tempest, remained a constant disappointment to Rhiannon. She failed to see the same potential in them that their birth mother seemed to perceive.

From where she was hidden, the observant femme saw that Larkspur was honing her hunting skills, with some unfortunate butterflies her target. But then the girl’s attention turned to something else – someone else, though it seemed Larkspur didn’t recognize Rhiannon from the rock she hid behind. The storm-hued enchantress turned away, pretending she had not noticed Larkspur there so that the fiery child’s hunt could continue.



@Larkspur

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

Wretched Gods
Divine Fools

Tiny nostrils flared as she lowered herself, knowing only that stealth was to be quiet and hidden. There was so much more to learn in that respective art, but it was not to her detriment at the moment. She was neither hungry nor wanting of anything except the thrill of the hunt itself. Lark grinned as she flanked the side of the boulder from a distance so that she could see what lay behind it.

Surely, her prey had not seen her and that gave her the advantage of a surprise attack, if all else went as planned. Edging closer to the figure with stretched out pawsteps, she felt she was finally within a good distance of her quarry. Larkspur kicked off the earth with a spring of her hind legs and sought to leap onto the other wolf with a shriek of laughter only comparable to that of a banshee.

Tag You're It
@Rhiannon

"The familiar taste of poison."

The child’s “prey” looked this way and that, everywhere except the boulder that hid the tiny hunter-to-be. She would play along; when the girl pounced for her, laughing all the way, Rhiannon fell dramatically to the ground and gasped aloud. ”Oh! What a scary beast!” The priestess looked over at the pup who was quite pleased with herself, and her feigned worry expression faded into pretend relief. ”You are the scary beast? Well done, Larkspur. Soon enough, you will be a formidable hunter, indeed.” She wore a gentle smile. Though pup was not her own, she was as close as Rhiannon had, and she felt immensely proud of Larkspur already.

But there was something even more important for the girl to learn than taking down prey – something that Rhiannon suspected Lark would be highly skilled at when the time came. No, there were other aspects of her existence that the child still needed to learn and internalize. After all, she was special, more than either of her littermates. Larkspur was important. She was the only daughter of the moon born to Yvaine. There was much for the child to learn.

Rhiannon regained her composure after playing prey, sitting back on her haunches as she regarded the girl with a curious grin. ”Little one, do you know what magical time is swiftly approaching?”

@Larkspur

art & code by alexandre

Wretched Gods
Divine Fools

"Ha!!" Lark laughed in the woman's face, grinning triumphantly from above and relishing her new title of 'scary beast'. She continued to growl ferociously as she leapt from Rhiannon's chest to attack her tail, sinking her teeth into the fluff and shaking her head mercilessly ripping fur from it. The only thing that stopped her was the Priestess' voice and she turned towards her, clumps of hair poking out from her lips. Her maw opened then, her tongue wagging as she spat the individual hairs from the inside of her mouth.

Once she'd cleared most of it, she looked up into those amethyst-hued windows to the woman's soul, blinking curiously. When she was asked what magical time was approaching, her nose scrunched up and she hummed thoughtfully. "Hmm..." Deep blue orbs strayed from the woman asking the question and looked around their surroundings as though the fae creatures would give her the answers. "Uhhm..." She then looked back at Rhiannon, deciding that taking a silly guess was better than nothing at all. "The day of your birth?"

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@Rhiannon

"The familiar taste of poison."

L

arkspur was just beginning to show off her blossoming skills, as the girl was now using Rhiannon’s tail for hunting practice. It was lucky that the pup was still so small that the storm-hued wolfess scarcely felt a pinch, despite the pup’s ferocity. But it was only a matter of time before those tiny teeth became sharpened fangs, when Lark would be ready to pierce the flesh of her prey – and perhaps her enemies. Beneath her breath, the priestess murmured to herself, ”I will have to start finding rodents for the children to catch.” The wolfess felt like a proud mother… albeit one missing whole chunks of fur from her tail. Oh well. She was not one to hinder the children's learning and growth.

The child pondered what magical time was approaching, and Rhiannon found a surge of impatience – not for Larkspur, but for the woman who had birthed her. Why wasn’t Yvaine teaching her about these things, the very foundation of their beliefs? Larkspur wondered if Rhiannon’s birthday was approaching, which earned an amused smile. It was a lucky guess. ”Well, yes, it is. I am summer-born, which was very unusual at the time,” she remarked, before her focus returned to more important matters.

”The summer solstice will be here soon. Our foremothers called it Litha,” she explained with a smile. ”It is the time when the days are at their longest, and the nights are shorter. It is a time of plenty, where prey is fat and plentiful. We mst honor the season and its bounty – before it is all gone again.”


@Larkspur

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

Wretched Gods
Divine Fools

A sly grin pulled at the corners of her lips as she discovered her assumption of a birthday had been accurate, though it seemed Rhiannon had more to share. Lark listened carefully, blue orbs locked intensely onto the Mother as she explained the importance of the season. Her smile faded as she now sat thoughtfully, taking a look around at their surroundings as she asked, “How do we honor it?"

She'd heard of the seasons, but had not yet experienced most of them, so they presented as an anomaly. The anticipation of witnessing all of them eventually left its lingering buzz of excitement in her tiny paws. “And what of the other seasons? Do we honor all of them?" She added quickly thereafter, knowing that if anyone had the answers to the world, it would be her own mother and Rhiannon, yet the woman who birthed her was absent.

Tag You're It
@Rhiannon

"The familiar taste of poison."