Sanity. Reason. Insanity. Void.

Memories taken from a very old roleplay thread. Slightly edited to keep a consistent writing format.

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R e s t l e s s n e s s

     Such a quiet evening… like a fairy tale setting brimming with underlying serenity. Gentle, lethargic tears of frost trickled from the grey-eyed heavens, seeping past gnarled, moon-washed branches and enveloping the ground in a thin layer of white.

     The gentle breeze wrapped itself around the lone animal, whispering in Synova’s ears and caressing his paws… toying with his tangible fur as if desiring to hurry him along his way. The fox heeded the urges those breaths of lunar ambience gave, however, he took a moment to pause -  for the winds whispered memories of an evening quite like this.

Much blood had been spilled – innocent blood, if he remembered correctly; mere campers who had fallen victim to a cruel force.

Yes, he remembered it quite well…The memories of a b e a s t with fur as white as the surrounding snow

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Synova had always been fond of testing the fates…

 

      “Oh, White Fox; Once as noble and pure as the breaths of lunar beams. Yet are you not unlike the golden moths that flutter about the night? You have dipped your teeth in how many sins?”

     Red eyes shot up from the mangled heap of red at his paws, and those rage-filled hues met the beast of fur black as ink. The large, white fox snickered through a blood-welled mouth; a wretched noise it was.

     “Pure is weak, and the world is cruel –“ Tomodine’s voice hissed past bared teeth. A trickle of blood from a wound on his cheek trickled down and pooled in his mouth as the white beast spoke. “I seek out those who cloak themselves in the name of righteousness and rip off their delicate little wings.  I may look pure, Synova, but I have sinned many a time.” Tomodine then grinned at the fox, a grin that outweighed the larger beast’s grin in utter mania.

 

     A quiet cackle from Synova was all that voiced protest to the other male’s words. A chilling noise it was; rattling with contempt and amusement hand in hand, colligated with blood within a piano of bone. “So consumed with hate for a creature so white; Surely it must take forever to clean your pelt~”

     Fluidity took hold of the predator’s movements as he advanced; Prowling, unafraid… unintimidated by this other Fox of demonic origin. Rather, a Glasgow grin curled the maw of the black animal, gracing the shade’s features with an air of utter amusement. Testing… he was testing his old acquaintance.

     “What happened to you, my friend? Were you that traumatized when daddy tore off your silken wings? Did his malice finally fester into that brain of yours and bring forth its decay? You are nearly as bad as Rosco now.”

 

     Tomodine would not let the other male’s words get to him. “Rosco, Pah! I could gut that blinded worm before he could twitch an ear.” The demon’s grin twitched into more of a snarl. “And you knew my sire, you know of the demons we are. I do not know when I began embracing my lineage, All I know I am an outcast. I am hated where ever I go. But that is the fun of it….”

     Tomodine’s ears flattened as he turned to truly face Synova. His jaws remained held agape as he spoke, prowling closer with every step. “I kill, so they fear me. So they fear us. I don’t ever want to clean my pelt. So, shadow, I won’t let your words get to me.” The White-furred Demon cackled. “I wonder how you can kill a shadow. I know you can’t cut it, but I have other ideas.”

     

     “Now that’s just anti-hygienic.” Words were formulated in the most casual of manners and chirped daintily through that grin. Never washing his fur? What of the maggots that would surely lay their spawn on the dried blood? 

 

     A distinct aura radiated from the beast’s anatomy as the other fox took on the predatory stance; Hostile… fervid… and yet that Godforsaken grin had yet to falter. On the contrary, it seemed to spread father even on Synova’s ashen maw.

{ Mocking, the Shadow was mocking him. One false move, and things might just get nasty~ }

 

     “Oh, you silly creature~ You assume your triumph far too soon.” Upper lip curled upwards as the fox parted his mandibles, brandishing the set of dagger-edged incisors in something a bit more… unfriendly than formerly eerie grin. But it was still testing… always testing;

“I wouldn’t recommend trying.”

     Tomodine glared at him strongly. His grin was getting bigger, almost unnaturally splitting his face into rows of pointed teeth. His heart started to pound hard as his breaths picked up in eager rasps. His blood was racing and his body was telling him to fight. But Tomodine knew better; he continued to study his enemy. The fox snarled at him. “I don’t think I can win. I know I can win.”

     Tomodine then started to circle him very slowly. Watching the black fox’s every move. “I’ve been watching you, Synova. I know where your weakness lies. I know what you fear.” So before I destroy that façade you call an existence, tell me, why call me a Moth?”

     Sanity and reason, insanity and voids. An unearthly screech of laughter resonated from the guttural depths of Synova’s throat. Yes… open laughter was the only reply to Tomodine’s threatening advances. “I call you a moth simply because you flutter straight to what you might find appealing, confident in your own strengths and pride. However, that leaves you blind to the dangers that accompany your attractions, and the fact that there are just so many others who are so much stronger than you~”

 

     Abandoning rationality, Synova stooped to the other Fox’s level, proceeding to prowl opposite of him and completing the circumference. Humor and amusement swiftly took up a much more hostile turn; Ears became pressed against the black animal’s skull as the villous mane and hackles alike rose and bristled… – Just as the mocking chuckle faded into an out-right guttural growl. The rare display of raw aggression seemed to ripple the very air as it resonated from the beast’s chest, accompanied by parted jaws and the deadly gleam of well-brandished fangs.

 

It was no hidden fact of life: this shadow-strewn beast, now cloaked in tangible fur, was dangerous.

Yet then again, so was the demon before him.

 

“Tomodine, be not a fool and heed my words; This is, and forever shall be your most cardinal error.”

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You were such a rascal when you were a pup, Tomodine. For shame it had to end that way.

     Gold spilled past black as Synova’s eyes cracked upen, ceasing the memory as a gust of wind tickled his ears. A quiet and vaguely curious hum was brought forth, and the fox rose to his paws and padded down the impervious path.

Synova had ultimately stripped the hide straight from Tomodine’s body, and watched as the bloodied demon writhed until his body froze.

He felt no remorse in hanging the pelt up as a warning for the next passing demon to find. 

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