After his mother's blessing by King of Shadows during her pregnancy, this Totoma felt a calling of honor from a very young age to seek out his tribe. Not only to thank him for what he had done, but also to make good on the promise to help him in return for the blessing. Eventually he found himself among their ranks, and though he could not stay in their lands year-round due to the influence of the Obelisk, he always returned with stories and trinkets from his travels in order to help repay the debt his mother took with King for his blessing.

the stars seem to shift and twist above, and he draws the lines of a lion between them. he can almost swear it roars back at him.

though he can feel the slow poison,
the feeling in his ears and tail fading away,
his limbs no longer working,

the fruit is so sweet it is unreal.

maybe he's just forgotten what reality means,
searching for a fantasy
that only death can hold.

it chills her to the bone, it's thick as mud, and it clings to her fur like burrs, but all she can do is wade through it.

its thorns tear through his thin skin like the teeth of a wolf would tear into a lamb's flesh.

quiet.
temperate.
peaceful.
verdant.

unfulfilling.

adequate.

the truth of all things,
the concept of reality itself,
is something he cannot touch,
cannot truly behold.

it is nothing, and yet it is

infinite.

as stars pit-a-pat to the ground like hailstones,
each glowing in a rainbow hue,
all are shouting and hollering.

singing their tales of woe,
their tales of grandeur.
moving, beating like a heart.

all is
a chorus of voices,
a chorus of colors.

and he dances the night away.

all is in darkness. the moon hangs in the sky, ominously. it is an eye, unblinking, and it watches her always. it sees all her tragedies, all her lies, all her hopes. she cannot escape it- for there is nothing else. only darkness awaits her, all darkness but the moon that hangs in the sky.

a chill runs down her spine.

at the edges of her vision, they blend into shadow.
shapes not quite of cats, but that's all she can think to compare them to.
in the dark, she sees their eyes reflect ghostly light.

a strange but tasty treat.

wouldn't life be unfulfilling without a little fun?

a life long lived in misery is worth far less
than a day filled with good times and friendship.

like a beautiful stone... but crunchy underfoot!

a cloud of blood-red petals that sweeps across the ground,
blotting out the sun like the darkness of night.