[open] Cut your teeth on this [ANY]

[Longclaw]

Longclaw

Longclaw missed his mother. Rapture too, but that was a given - twins forever, only death could separate them. Wyrm had told him that his spotted mother had come to visit while they bided time in Pangea, before it crumpled inward upon itself and felt the wrath of Beqanna’s true magic. The blue boy had wondered why she didn’t seek him out. He knew, though, that he was as much to blame for not finding her himself. The spotted cat that was his sire had loped out into the waste and he’d stayed put, just as he’d been ordered.
 
Childhood, however, was waxing. It stole his patience, his curiosity bred from joy, and left only boredom and rebellion in its wake. These feelings coupled together and sent him to shifting into his wolf form; a sleek, slender creature of sinew, more height than girth. White and pale on the underbelly with hair spun from silver that blended into his topline. He’d finally mastered the change, with encouragement from dad, but the aftermath was well worth the push his sire had given him. The power of having this gift was useful beyond paltry amusement.
 
His nose, trained now to separate and file endless smells, leads him nimbly through the tangle of bracken and out finally into the Meadow where he is sure to don his regular shape. Out here, in public, it wasn’t safe yet to be his inner self. Wyrm had warned him that he was in hiding and should remain as normal as he could manage until the time was right. So very like his father, to be cryptic and yet specifically demanding. Either way, Longclaw reasons that getting lost in warm bodies is a much better way to spend time than alone under the shade of endless trees.
 
Out here, he shines. The late rays of Springtime sun set his blue-speckled coat glimmering with iridescent hues of gold, green, and bronze. He snaps a few tips of forage as he walks, neither intent on a specific destination nor immobile in fear. Longclaw isn’t like his father, or his sweet sister, or his stoic mother. He’s grown to be almost arrogant and indisputably appealing in that arrogance. Youth becomes him, just as it becomes everyone at a certain point or another.
 
The only thing that he selfishly holds on to are his canines, elongated and yet comfortably visible on top of his lower lip where they rest. Predator or Prey, take your pick.

One-Half contract between Wyrm and Heartfire