05-16-2009, 02:40 PM
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500+
The male paused, his stride ceasing as he suddenly stopped. It was as if his limbs were made of the earth’s stone themselves, cloaked in the darkness of death and the night, of the unknown. He did not turn his head back to look at her. Thos black orbs simply saw what was ahead. "Then you live in a lie, a self-imposed reality that betrays only yourself." The corners of his lips twitched in that telltale manner, but that sneer was never made upon his cruel jaws. It was this thing’s mind that fooled itself, that created a world that did not exist. He exhaled sharply, that sneering laughter unable to form. It was amazing how some creatures could do that to themselves, to be so blind to what it was the world held. The nature of the world was simple; there was birth, life, and death. Indeed, the pied brute himself ‘followed’ a god, but he did not doubt that it was an entity that his mind had somehow created. And why deny the mind? This thing before him did so, implying that the self had no control. There was control; many simply lacked the foresight.
Finally, his head shifted, a strange and fluid movement—it was unreal. Those fathomless orbs, cold and mocking, watched the trying creature with a sidelong glance. "Fate, he sneered. "It is not Fate but Causality that moves the world." But then he had already explained that; it seemed as if the thing could not grasp such a concept. "Faith and hope are the source of your greatest weakness. It blinds you." Even now he could see it blinding it. And because of such a thing, it continued to create metaphors that were false. It was a fool, a jester. The pied brute didn’t have time for such creatures. He could kill it, but he did not want this tainted blood within him, infecting him like the virus it was. There was but one blood he would accept, but that masked coyote had not made himself manifest. And Corvus knew that he had not died, that was certain. There next meeting was inevitable; already their chance encounter, the blood had had been given, drove the two toward each other with an unstoppable force: causality.
Indeed this thing struggled with the philosophical world, but its efforts were futile. The crow wolf was not captivated by her presence, nor was he inclined to remain. Her words naïve, and her efforts to mimic his voice were only trying. And there were so many of such creatures here. With a last look, the male’s gaze moved away, turning back to the path that was laid before his feet. But the brute paused as if expecting something of the thing at his back. Perhaps he expected another futile attempt to elicit a profundity upon his sinister mind. Perhaps he expected the thing to finally challenge him for his presence within the boarders. But he did not think that this jester of a creature was capable of such a thing. Its intelligence had not been impressed upon him. He did not think that its intuition would prove any better. It was simply not in his nature to expect greatness from commoness.
500+
The male paused, his stride ceasing as he suddenly stopped. It was as if his limbs were made of the earth’s stone themselves, cloaked in the darkness of death and the night, of the unknown. He did not turn his head back to look at her. Thos black orbs simply saw what was ahead. "Then you live in a lie, a self-imposed reality that betrays only yourself." The corners of his lips twitched in that telltale manner, but that sneer was never made upon his cruel jaws. It was this thing’s mind that fooled itself, that created a world that did not exist. He exhaled sharply, that sneering laughter unable to form. It was amazing how some creatures could do that to themselves, to be so blind to what it was the world held. The nature of the world was simple; there was birth, life, and death. Indeed, the pied brute himself ‘followed’ a god, but he did not doubt that it was an entity that his mind had somehow created. And why deny the mind? This thing before him did so, implying that the self had no control. There was control; many simply lacked the foresight.
Finally, his head shifted, a strange and fluid movement—it was unreal. Those fathomless orbs, cold and mocking, watched the trying creature with a sidelong glance. "Fate, he sneered. "It is not Fate but Causality that moves the world." But then he had already explained that; it seemed as if the thing could not grasp such a concept. "Faith and hope are the source of your greatest weakness. It blinds you." Even now he could see it blinding it. And because of such a thing, it continued to create metaphors that were false. It was a fool, a jester. The pied brute didn’t have time for such creatures. He could kill it, but he did not want this tainted blood within him, infecting him like the virus it was. There was but one blood he would accept, but that masked coyote had not made himself manifest. And Corvus knew that he had not died, that was certain. There next meeting was inevitable; already their chance encounter, the blood had had been given, drove the two toward each other with an unstoppable force: causality.
Indeed this thing struggled with the philosophical world, but its efforts were futile. The crow wolf was not captivated by her presence, nor was he inclined to remain. Her words naïve, and her efforts to mimic his voice were only trying. And there were so many of such creatures here. With a last look, the male’s gaze moved away, turning back to the path that was laid before his feet. But the brute paused as if expecting something of the thing at his back. Perhaps he expected another futile attempt to elicit a profundity upon his sinister mind. Perhaps he expected the thing to finally challenge him for his presence within the boarders. But he did not think that this jester of a creature was capable of such a thing. Its intelligence had not been impressed upon him. He did not think that its intuition would prove any better. It was simply not in his nature to expect greatness from commoness.