08-20-2021, 09:38 AM
The night is dark and silent, without even the moon to illuminate the scene. He slips through her ribs and onto the dew-coated grass as a pair of ragged claws. Slowly, he pulls himself free of her. He is much more gentle than his brothers in the past. The newborn leaves her whole and unscathed from his birth. In fact, the pregnancy must be like a terrible fever dream for her now - a few months of madness and, suddenly, peace.
Nazghul lifts his head and examines the world around him. His long legs are clumsy at first, stumbling through the grasses. There is a hollow, gnawing hunger forming in his belly as he begins to sniff the air for something delectable. Here in Silver Cove, there is precious little misery for him to feed on that he has not already created himself. But then he catches the scent of loss and he crawls toward it. He crawls until the ground becomes dry and red. Each step leaves the barest hint of claw marks in his wake.
Greedily, he snaps his teeth on things unseen - sorrow, rage, and a bit of madness. He devours these lingering emotions until his belly is full and content.
Then, at last, the shadows fade from his skin to reveal the shimmering gold of his little body. The boy gives a little yawn before curling up in the shade of a towering plateau near the effigy of his brother. Nazghul hardly seems to notice the strange carvings, giving it only a fleeting glance before he lowers his head and dozes off.
NazghuL