[ hunger is a hell of a feeling. do you ever remember in your life, really, starving? Angel Devil had never. Had never. He'd been hungry in his life, in other ways, but never in the pure base animal keening desperate sense of I will become nothing, soon, if I do not eat.
You dream of being hungry. You dream of looking for prey. You're running, body one long sinuous machine as it rockets forward. You run. And run. And run. And the terrain of the deep inner depths of the mist is real to you, now, except it looks a lot like--
something very personal and familiar. it can't be it. it just looks somehwat alike. it just looks alike to the Sekai. You feel yourself slow. You despair. Because this place is Empty.
You thought you had sightedfeltheardscentedsomething deepered something to tear apart, this way. But it's vanished like a mirage, now.
You come to a stop and drop down into the dust with a heavy whuff, and think about that shining star you had glimpsed, so briefly.
there's a leeching cold nestled in your chest that reaches down to gnaw in your stomach, and that darkness whispers, you could have held that heartbeat in your teeth, you could have given it a gift of all gifts.
you scratch at your muzzle with one horrendously big paw and whine, as if that will solve anything.
what else is there left in you to do? even though this dust is itching your fur. you really would like to just lay here. ]
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dream, night 26 or 27 before the midnight flarewolf showdown, whatever works better for ur timeline
do you ever remember in your life, really, starving? Angel Devil had never. Had never. He'd been hungry in his life, in other ways, but never in the pure base animal keening desperate sense of I will become nothing, soon, if I do not eat.
You dream of being hungry. You dream of looking for prey.
You're running, body one long sinuous machine as it rockets forward. You run. And run. And run. And the terrain of the deep inner depths of the mist is real to you, now, except it looks a lot like--
something very personal and familiar. it can't be it. it just looks somehwat alike. it just looks alike to the Sekai. You feel yourself slow. You despair. Because this place is Empty.
You thought you had sightedfeltheardscentedsomething deepered something to tear apart, this way. But it's vanished like a mirage, now.
You come to a stop and drop down into the dust with a heavy whuff, and think about that shining star you had glimpsed, so briefly.
there's a leeching cold nestled in your chest that reaches down to gnaw in your stomach, and that darkness whispers, you could have held that heartbeat in your teeth,
you could have given it a gift of all gifts.
you scratch at your muzzle with one horrendously big paw and whine, as if that will solve anything.
what else is there left in you to do? even though this dust is itching your fur. you really would like to just lay here. ]