razekiel lykoi
3 years (june 6)
male
luperci
you know how to contact me. :3
How funny; how long had it been? How long had it been since he'd known a family beside him, siblings behind him? A year, two years. He was one of Inferni's spawn, one of the deadly three siblings that had were born with a reputation. He'd been one of them once, the bloodthirsty creature that Inferni was so infamous for, but many moons had passed since those days. Many hours had shifted by, many memories had been formed, many faces had been met and left behind. He'd had a thousand experiences away from his dark and deadly homeland; he'd had two years of peace and comfort away from the snarls and teeth. Just like the sun and moon that wind around the earth in a ceaseless dance, of course, those days had passed. Razekiel had grown. Grown, blossomed, loved, hated. He'd done it all.
Home was not what it used to be. He was Inferni by birth; he always knew which way Inferni was, which way his family was waiting for him, but he had never ventured back. By the time he did, it was too late; the ground was ravished, trees destroyed, life numbed and silenced. Bleeding Souls had been burnt to the ground. Such devastation, such death choked him to the core; the creature had simply fallen to his knees and cried. There was no amount of retribution worth the amount of death and embers that had once been Bleeding Souls... had once been his home. The home of a thousand animals, plants; the sun's favorite place to shine.
Incessant meandering had brought him up and around Halcyon Mountain, the only remaining sanctuary of the former Bleeding Souls land. He walked and smoked on Drifter Bay, planted a few seeds in the Waste; as his hand pushed unfertile soil over the hopeless seed, a chill ran down his spine. Such a thing was unlike anything else; Razekiel had killed, thus he knew the chills of death. What slid down his vertebrae was the unique sense he knew from nowhere else; the tall boy lifted his head to breathe in the air. He knew the smells suddenly, the eerie feelings that drifted past that could have been a thousand ghosts and ghouls. The hybrid stood tall, pulled off his rose-tinted glasses, and grinned.
The old, staked skulls at the territory's edge was a welcoming sight. The prodigal boy straightened his vest and bandana, cleared his throat, and released a joyous call into the air: I'm home! That said, he rolled something grainy and foreign in his fingers, lit it with a lighter, and sat contentedly at the ground, facing away from the territory with his back stiff against a skull-mounted stake. The sunshine was beautiful today...