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I needed another thread for Corvus, but I’m leaving this one open (my first AW thread, yay~). I’m still trying to get back into the ‘mood’ of playing him, so let’s just see where this takes us, ^=^;; Oh, and he’s in his Secui form.
500+
Twilight. Dawn breathed faintly, weakly, upon the horizon. The light flickered there, hesitant, fearful, unwilling to rise just yet as if waiting for some sign of reassurance. But that sign had not yet come. Darkness still reigned with a great profundity, and the tenebrous world was unrelenting. And the Darkness sighed, as if content, satisfied that its grip had not been compromised. The world lay still, as if accepting its fate, and it lay in a grey, colourless state with its eyes closed. But the heavens were wide open, seeing all and yet nothing. Only the clouds in the west threatened to come, but in the stillness before the dawn, there was no wind, no driving force, to bring them. It was as if the world had died, only to be reborn with the sun and dawn. And yet, for all the stillness, for all the death and immobility, a shadow moved upon the skin of the earth. It moved like a snake with tendrils of shadow, smooth, tempting, inviting. The shadow was an empty soul hungering to be filled, cursed as was Tantalus of the ancient world.
His movements were silent and fluid, attributes passed down to his daughter. The black orbs, so contrasting to that female, watched only that which was ahead of him, but they saw through the peripheral all that he had been trained to see: movement, anything out of the ordinary. But he saw only the rattling shivers of the trees through that shuddering air. And his ears watched his back, but he had that sixth sense that many animals carried, utilized as if with a purpose. And as he walked, passing as a wraith through the trees, his black claws ripped through the earth, tearing it with a natural ease as if they hungered for something more. The shadows seemed to cling to his sinewy form, clawing at him, grasping at him with their tenebrous tendrils, begging, pleading, with empty voices. And with each step, the fell away, torn from him by his disregard. And he stepped into the forest’s clearing as dawn finally broke through, and the world was thrown into a chaos of wind as it brought that tentative line of clouds in the west.
Slowly, the large Korean lowered himself upon his sinewy haunches, and he sat is if in contemplation as the sun mounted the earth. But the light was smothered by the clouds brought by the wind, and as their cooling shadow fell over the crow wolf, the winds were quieted and screamed no longer. The relinquished only the rain, a soft weeping of the world. The pied crow sat unmoving, as lithic as the effigy of some forgotton god fallen dormant in the world. A soft sneer tugged at the corners of his lips. He knew what he wanted and he knew that he would get it. But the Korean was a patient creature, unhurried by the necessities of the material world. And the emptiness within him did not call to be filled by needlessness. That empty soul of darkness sought only the freedom of the world, the freedom of his own wishes and whims, of his curiosities. If he would bide his time, that God which he served would show him. And for now, he would lie in waiting.