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WARNING This thread contains: strong language, drug usage, strong violence, or strong sexual content starting with the 1st post. Reader discretion is advised. |
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Thread Information
Date: 30Mar2011Setting: Anathema Caverns Time: Mid-morning. Character Form: Optime Requested Participants: Any and all are welcome. Participant Preferences: Anathema only. Ideal Participant Speed: At least once per week. Ideal Thread Length: Whether you'd like a short thread, long thread, etc. |
PTS→3+
Determining time was different within the confines of the caverns, but she had quickly made the adjustments necessary to live underground in the darkness. Days had passed in relative comfort. Still, the golden coyote felt misplaced, as if she didn't belong in the new and strange family unit; what she had managed to encounter were wolves, and she was far from such a large and bulky cousin-species. Citlali wasn't at all like them. The Kimaris line that had come to Nova Scotia stood out amongst the crowd of large canis lupus beasts. It caused Tlantli to laugh, silently, at the idea. Que curioso. She doubted Metetztli had, when sending his surrogate children away from their religious fanatic of an uncle, expected or desired them to live within the confines of wolf society. Eterne was built on superiority. Wolves were less. Though Tlantli didn't harbor this mindset as firmly as some others, it was still there. Anathema was a strange home.
Ochre feet carried her back into the entrance of the caverns from the hunt she had performed shortly before. Utilizing some sort of woven strip, made by her talented Citlali, she had managed to snare two rabbits; they hung over her shoulder, unconscious but alive, their white-patterned furs glowing ever so slightly in the darkness of the entrance. They had a purpose, though it wasn't for eating. Instead, they would be sacrificed to her Sun. Was there bad fortune that needed to be erased? Certainly not. Did she want to keep it that way? Oh, most definitely.
Finding a silent corner of the cave system, she settled down with her catch, setting her satchel on the ground and flipping it open. While her hands pushed aside jars of hallucinogenic substances, they sought a specific item. A red-handled pocket-knife. Without a ceremonial knife, it would have to do; she needed something, after all, to cut the poor creatures. The blade was dulled, a bit rusted, but it would suffice.
Laying out the furred critters, the coyote woman ran the blade of her small weapon across a rock. Absent expression crossed fae-like features, as if thinking. Momoztli didn't reach below the surface of the rock, so would he see her sacrifice? It was worth a try, regardless, she decided. Her hand raised briefly toward the surface, eyes following as she drew a circle in the air. "Para el Sol." As the final word left her mouth, the knife found a mark upon the neck of the first rabbit; with a bit of force, crimson blood stained the white furs, matting it against the body of the animal.
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