Changeling
Far far away, behind the word mountains, far from the countries Vokalia and Consonantia, there live the blind texts. Separated they live in Bookmarksgrove right at the coast of the Semantics, a large language ocean. A small river named Duden flows by their place and supplies it with the necessary regelialia. It is a paradisematic country, in which roasted parts of sentences fly into your mouth.
Even the all-powerful Pointing has no control about the blind texts it is an almost unorthographic life One day however a small line of blind text by the name of Lorem Ipsum decided to leave for the far World of Grammar. The Big Oxmox advised her not to do so, because there were thousands of bad Commas, wild Question Marks and devious Semikoli, but the Little Blind Text didn’t listen. She packed her seven versalia, put her initial into the belt and made herself on the way.
When she reached the first hills of the Italic Mountains, she had a last view back on the skyline of her hometown Bookmarksgrove, the headline of Alphabet Village and the subline of her own road, the Line Lane. Pityful a rethoric question ran over her cheek, then she continued her way. On her way she met a copy.
The copy warned the Little Blind Text, that where it came from it would have been rewritten a thousand times and everything that was left from its origin would be the word "and" and the Little Blind Text should turn around and return to its own, safe country. But nothing the copy said could convince her and so it didn’t take long until a few insidious Copy Writers ambushed her, made her drunk with Longe and Parole and dragged her into their agency, where they abused her for their projects again and again. And if she hasn’t been rewritten, then they are still using her.
Far far away, behind the word mountains, far from the countries Vokalia and Consonantia, there live the blind texts. Separated they live in Bookmarksgrove right at the coast of the Semantics, a large language ocean. A small river named Duden flows by their place and supplies it with the necessary regelialia. It is a paradisematic country, in which roasted parts of sentences fly into your mouth. Even the all-powerful Pointing has no control about the blind texts it is an almost unorthographic life One day however a small line of blind text by the name of Lorem Ipsum decided to leave for the far World of Grammar. The Big Oxmox advised her not to do so, because there were thousands of bad Commas, wild Question Marks and devious Semikoli, but the Little Blind Text didn’t listen. She packed her seven versalia, put her initial into the belt and made herself on the way. When she reached the first hills of the Italic Mountains, she had a last view back on the skyline of her hometown Bookmarksgrove, the headline of Alphabet Village and the subline
Even the all-powerful Pointing has no control about the blind texts it is an almost unorthographic life One day however a small line of blind text by the name of Lorem Ipsum decided to leave for the far World of Grammar. The Big Oxmox advised her not to do so, because there were thousands of bad Commas, wild Question Marks and devious Semikoli, but the Little Blind Text didn’t listen. She packed her seven versalia, put her initial into the belt and made herself on the way.
When she reached the first hills of the Italic Mountains, she had a last view back on the skyline of her hometown Bookmarksgrove, the headline of Alphabet Village and the subline of her own road, the Line Lane. Pityful a rethoric question ran over her cheek, then she continued her way. On her way she met a copy.
The copy warned the Little Blind Text, that where it came from it would have been rewritten a thousand times and everything that was left from its origin would be the word "and" and the Little Blind Text should turn around and return to its own, safe country. But nothing the copy said could convince her and so it didn’t take long until a few insidious Copy Writers ambushed her, made her drunk with Longe and Parole and dragged her into their agency, where they abused her for their projects again and again. And if she hasn’t been rewritten, then they are still using her.
Far far away, behind the word mountains, far from the countries Vokalia and Consonantia, there live the blind texts. Separated they live in Bookmarksgrove right at the coast of the Semantics, a large language ocean. A small river named Duden flows by their place and supplies it with the necessary regelialia. It is a paradisematic country, in which roasted parts of sentences fly into your mouth. Even the all-powerful Pointing has no control about the blind texts it is an almost unorthographic life One day however a small line of blind text by the name of Lorem Ipsum decided to leave for the far World of Grammar. The Big Oxmox advised her not to do so, because there were thousands of bad Commas, wild Question Marks and devious Semikoli, but the Little Blind Text didn’t listen. She packed her seven versalia, put her initial into the belt and made herself on the way. When she reached the first hills of the Italic Mountains, she had a last view back on the skyline of her hometown Bookmarksgrove, the headline of Alphabet Village and the subline
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Hello there little wig
Wasn't sure who you were because the picto never popped on the map. I ALWAYS FIND WHAT I WANT.
Hello ^^ Glad you found us.
Experiment X finds your
-X
Hai. ^^
Experiment x - My little
My little puff ball will happily seek out Experiment X in the future, even with his bad attitudes. ^^
Niused -
Hello c:
Curious track.
Thanks ^^
Cutie patootie! Track track
Aw thanks c: He likes
"Stand still so I can squish
Pan loves little things and this guy is adorable. B]
Aw thanks c:
This fluffyfluffy thing
Thank you, Tuo and Kohva!
curiosity track :00 if you
Niriya - Aw c: EpherFish
Aw c:
EpherFish -
Thanks and will do ^^
-holds in arms- Little
Little babuuu. ♥
♥
Trackin' this little guy!
:3
Oh dang that was your boy!
track, he's a cutie ♥
-Swoops in and drops off a
X (By Aihnna)
track :J
A flash of light at a near by
A soft sigh left the male as heavy paws pulled him forward, the familiar scent of his home tree luring him closer, the sight of the nearby X logs, the scent of the red bowl in the near by glade, but there was something else there. The slightest breeze brought him the scent of his son, and immediately ears perked forward, tail lifted, waving slightly in what was assumed to be happiness as he picked his pace up to a trot, though as he got closer, and the small child did not immediately jump up as he so often did, the brute knew something was wrong.
Nose was pushed to the small child as he neared, the fur no longer warm, no longer alive. Instantly ears folded back, paws scuffled forward, pacing back and forth, eyes flickering to and from the child, calculations and processes running a diagnostic, but no signs of life could be detected. A soft whimper began in his chest, but soon morphed into a screeching howl of sorrow as he moved forward again. Nose abruptly shoving the child's side. "Get up." He huffed, he could not be dead, no no, not after everything X had tried to do for him. Another shove. "Runt, wake up.. please."
Foreign emotions coursed into the males brain, Self-hatred, sadness, anger, but confusion masked them all. His tail instantly tucked close to his rump, jaws clenching tightly as he started to pace again, back and forth, back and forth. 'No... nonononono..'
"Little boy.. Where have you
The serpent lady had been the first to discover the cold figure of the child, a sight that caused a shock to go trough her whole body. She still remembered the day the little squirt had been snuggled against her and X. Or when she had been standing over him while protecting the child from vicious predators. The doe couldn't believe that such a young being had met his end already, it teared her heart apart and she too had been screaming at the kid to get up. But he wouldn't.
It had been years ago since the last time she had felt such grief and only because the loss of a child that had ment more to her than she had expected. A child that could light up the mood from those around him. And although their interactions had been brief and not as much as she had wished for, she still loved the kid. But the doe knew someone who was more attached to him than anyone else.
Eventually Kiyohime had moved some ways off from the child to avoid looking at the lifeless body any longer. Her back was turned towards him, her head drooped down while the tears were rolling off her cheeks. The sudden howl made her jumps forward, only to turn and see the familiar mechanical wolf. She rushed over when he started to pace, pushing herself against the beast. "I'm so sorry X." The doe whispered into his fur, taking steps back afterwards; not wanting to be shoved away. The doe was looking back at the child with teary eyes now, still not believing he was gone for good.
Va'Tiri was not far behind,
The red rings that were her pupils dilated to pin points. Who'd upset him in such a short amount of time they'd been seperated? Her eyes first settled on Kiyo, who was nearby, and a split moment of excited happiness fluttered in her chest before it fell again upon seeing the snake lady's own distraught expression. With careful steps she slowly approached, first pressing her face to the other female's flank gently. Va was about to ask what was wrong, why she and X were suddenly so distressed when she saw it. The small white bundle at the base of the tree.
The she-demon stepped around Kiyo and X, approaching the child she'd just begun getting attached to as her and X's little one. Her ears were perked, eyes round orbs as she gently, very very gently, nuzzled the small frail body. She'd begun to speak, to call out his name softly as if to wake him... But as soon as she touched him, and found him unmoving, unbreathing, soft canine-like whines began leaving her, convulsing her torso despite how quiet they were. The female's tail fell limp, and she continued to snuffle around his small form searching for any sign of hope, of life. She looked at X, then Kiyo, then back at the white fluff before she began to gently prod his body, moving it ever so slightly before the behemoth lay beside it. She curled around it as tightly as she could, craddling him in the curve of her neck as the whining continued. Long ears fell back and her eyes were shut tightly. She didn't speak, she couldn't.
The brute immediately
He all but ignored Va'Tiri as she stumbled upon the scene, tail that was once tucked away, now whipping around in sheer anger at himself. Eyes moved over only to observe as Va curled around the child, then darted off to the forest. Without warning he took off, slamming himself into trees as he went, the force of his body against the smaller ones snapping them to the ground. Upon arriving in the birch he found the largest tree he could, using this to take out his frustrations, claws shredding the bark, teeth gouging its flesh. He must be punished for his failure, it was his nature, programmed within his core.
It was hours before he returned, paws bloodied from the force he used, lacking a few claws, mouth full of splinters. It was not enough, but there was so little he could do in this forest. Quietly he limped over to where Va lay, practically shoving himself under her neck, and resting his skull against her flank as the two curled around their deceased son. As much as it pained him to think of it, the child deserved to be buried. There was no way in hell he would allow some scavenger to come along and take the lifeless corpse away.
No words were spoken as they settled there, Crosshairs locked on the fawns face, as if waiting for the child to open his eyes, to breath, even the slightest twitch, but there was nothing. Sometime had passed before he stood, moving about, nose to the ground. Just a few paces from the den, a tree lay, nearly surrounded by purple flowers, a beam of light radiating around the area. It was perfect, and he set to work, bloodied claws digging through the earth, clawing past the roots. The pain hardly phased him compared to what his hearts felt,
shattered, broken, gone.The hole was deep, deep enough for half of the brutes body to disappear within as he continued to dig. When he figured it was enough to keep predators away, he hopped out, turning to tug and rip out parts of his long mane like fur, using the tufts to create a circular bedding at the bottom of the hole, tucking purple flowers at even intervals around it. Once he deemed it acceptable he returned to Va'Tiri's side, moving to take Dimitri out of her grasp, ready to snap if she dared to defy him the right.
He held the fawn in his jaws as he so often did, though the limp cold body felt foreign, wrong. Soft whimpers left his chest, and his head sagged toward the ground as he slowly moved back over to the tree. Carefully he lowered his front half into the hole, laying the child in the makeshift bedding, and adjusting his form to look as if he were simply sleeping. Ears folded back as an unfamiliar burn in his throat crept up, eyes burned as well, though no tears would slide down his face, for it was something he lacked in this form. Just as carefully as he lowered himself in, he lifted himself out, eyes turned down upon the small fawn in the nest of fur. He turned slightly, tugging up a few more flowers and letting them fall onto the fawn. "We're sorry. So so sorry." He muttered, ears drooping to the sides as he turned, paws reworking the dirt back into the hole. He could not bare to watch the dirt hitting the fawn, and so, his back was turned as the deed was done.
The hole was soon filled, and he turned, paws patting the ground firmly, then scraping some pine needles over it to make it less noticeable. Neon orbs turned to Va'Tiri for a split second before the brute collapsed on the grave, his form racked with dry heaving and whimpers as he began to shut down mentally.
It was the call, the
Darting downward, tree limb to tree limb, Pan's face morphed to take on the feral muzzle of a canine. The fur along her spine raised, feathers fluffed, as she raced through the trees toward the familiar den she had spent many nights and days in before. By the time she got there, her horns and tusks were already grown and she was prepared to throw herself into the face of whatever enemy there was to find.
But that was just it. There were none. None that could have been physically faced, at least.
She could see the small, white form the mechanical beast held in his maw, limp of life. There didn't seem to be any visible wounds, and she didn't smell any blood. What happened? Slowly, she approached, watching as X lowered himself and the tiny being she once knew as Dimitri, into a just-dug grave. Her feral accommodations disappearing as she slipped off her mask to show a brow knitted with worry and some understanding. It was apparent that the little one didn't make it, but how had he died? Why? These were questions that would never be answered, she felt, and she could only wonder how the brute was taking all of it.
Eyes glanced to the familiar form that was Kiyohime as the serpent took up a spot at X's side after the burial of what Pan could only consider the mecha's non-biological son of sorts. She had nothing to say. Maybe it was more of the fact that she didn't know what to say. What could she say that would get rid of this sort of pain? Nothing. And depending on how long the little one had been gone, she didn't think she'd be able to find him within the Void as quickly as she'd of liked.
Timidly, the demon moved to join Kiyohime, X, and Va'Tiri; normally a trio so full of life now lay with shoulders heavy with mourning. She made mental notes, plans, to go hunting within the hour to find any possible phantom or youmu that may have been the cause for all of this. It was a plausible reason, and something she believed would make her feel better if she could find something out about this. She wished to move, to do action, rather than sit here and stare into nothingness, but what else could she do? She had no leads. And as far as she could tell the place smelled clean.
Death worked in mysterious, strange, and often unfair ways.
So, instead of moving off, the demon sat. Back hunched, eyes closed, she listened to her pack mates weep over the loved one who left too soon.
She had been wandering
A frown appeared on the Yokai's face, as she quietly followed the scent, as it thickened in the air, making her nose wrinkle with fear. It was X, but it wasn't he who reeked of death.
She stopped.
"X...." she breathed, as the Yokai came to terms at what had happened. Dimitri was gone.
With her head lowered, the Yokai joined his Pack. A silent prayer was whispered, a traditional saying she learnt from her Homeland, as she settled by the lifeless body.
She spoke no further.
cyootie ;;u;
Retrackin' so glad to see
Mirai is screaming.
Glad to see him back.
♥
brOTHER ♥
Sig: Aihnna
♥ !!!
wheee track
Track C:
AAA, look at how much cuter
Little cutie! ;D
Kets been staring at this
He is so flippin' cute. <3
Thanks you guys
Kettu can approach him anytime, Dimi loves everyone <3
Except those who try and eat him
Hi puppy!
Herro
Dimitri there yes?
What nature divides, the spirit unites.
Yes c:
Hi there then. Nice to meet
What nature divides, the spirit unites.
It's alright. Dimitri just
The day was hot, and even
Additionally Faolán reminded himself to never hunt on a searing day again, if not necessary. The squirrel may have been an easy catch, but it was not worth the baking warmth rising from the grey’s body afterwards.
Luckily the sun finally started to fall more and more towards the horizon and all that remained was a warm breeze that whispered of peace and closeness. And closeness was indeed what the wolf got - when he woke into the late afternoon hours - in form of the white juvenile, who spent time with Faolán and the pups a day before.
Lazily the adult male greeted his companion with sniffs and poking with his snout, gradually scooting closer to the now familiar canine, until he was able to dig his nose into the adolescent’s backside of his head and ears, smelling intensively. He took the others scent in, trying to remember it and losing some idle licks now and then.
What nature divides, the spirit unites.
A loud yawn sounded from the
Amber eyes closed in a
When he felt it was enough of this, his head found its way to the white ones shoulders. Carefully Faolán laid his head upon said shoulders, knowing that this action could be taken as slight dominance and unsure if the other would refuse or might have enough at this point.
What nature divides, the spirit unites.
c8