Rainforest Cliffs
harvesting asulli feathers
05-23-2018, 05:53 AM
There is just no hiding from the sensitive eyes of these—the Rift’s new apex predators…
The first on the scene, bathed in the breath of late-day gold, burst forward like a swift-moving screecher and the tranquilly that had been is, broken harshly by her voice. The fearful new mother’s cover is blown and her heart pounds so loudly against her hidden ears, so violently anxious, that she begins to feel faint. She cannot tell whether the feathered predator means to harm her—she can only assume the worst, and when she reaches with a plush, stripped mouth to stir her young, she discovers his fleshy body already pinned, trembling against her side.
The horse-beast growls in an unfamiliar tongue—she feels, with murderous intent—and her eyes have glossed over with dismal resignation. She cannot protect her helpless infant; she would sacrifice herself, yet she without her it will surely not survive. The soft, luminous skin wrapped around fatty brawn ripples frantically, she cannot think, unintentionally frozen to the spot. Her babe stares up with wide amethyst-tinged eyes; there is beautiful innocence pooling within, trust, confusion. His proboscis-like nose ventures nearer, tasting the strange flavour of the aliens which linger between the foliage.
The nearest monster whispers, and he mumbles softly in response.
The first on the scene, bathed in the breath of late-day gold, burst forward like a swift-moving screecher and the tranquilly that had been is, broken harshly by her voice. The fearful new mother’s cover is blown and her heart pounds so loudly against her hidden ears, so violently anxious, that she begins to feel faint. She cannot tell whether the feathered predator means to harm her—she can only assume the worst, and when she reaches with a plush, stripped mouth to stir her young, she discovers his fleshy body already pinned, trembling against her side.
The horse-beast growls in an unfamiliar tongue—she feels, with murderous intent—and her eyes have glossed over with dismal resignation. She cannot protect her helpless infant; she would sacrifice herself, yet she without her it will surely not survive. The soft, luminous skin wrapped around fatty brawn ripples frantically, she cannot think, unintentionally frozen to the spot. Her babe stares up with wide amethyst-tinged eyes; there is beautiful innocence pooling within, trust, confusion. His proboscis-like nose ventures nearer, tasting the strange flavour of the aliens which linger between the foliage.
The nearest monster whispers, and he mumbles softly in response.
the Rift
feather bright
feather bright
@Aurelia
