07-21-2018, 07:20 PM
He is skin stretched across bones, a tired, aching soul who whines helplessly as he is dropped to the cool forest floor. Sylva’s endless autumn envelopes him in hues of crimson, flaxen, and tangerine. He is born, swirling red and black eyes opening to take in the world around him...around them?
The Demoness is beautiful, clearly, he isn’t too young to see this. Bloody russet skin covers her filled-out bodice, glowing emerald eyes staring at him in displeasure. She licks him roughly, tongue cleaning off the fluids upon him in a more instinctual way than an actual loving way.
He mirrors her, indifferent towards the woman who he assumes is his mother, but curious nonetheless. His forked tongue escapes through his teeth as he licks the soft parts of her legs, brow bone wiggling at the feeling. The world is curious, and he has many questions for his mother...where were they? Where was his father?
But more importantly, who was he?
@[Astarael]
The Demoness is beautiful, clearly, he isn’t too young to see this. Bloody russet skin covers her filled-out bodice, glowing emerald eyes staring at him in displeasure. She licks him roughly, tongue cleaning off the fluids upon him in a more instinctual way than an actual loving way.
He mirrors her, indifferent towards the woman who he assumes is his mother, but curious nonetheless. His forked tongue escapes through his teeth as he licks the soft parts of her legs, brow bone wiggling at the feeling. The world is curious, and he has many questions for his mother...where were they? Where was his father?
But more importantly, who was he?
@[Astarael]