blackbird singin in the dead of night

[Myrkari]

to capture a predator, you can't remain the prey

 Birth is a strange memory for the child, and stranger yet when recognizes the swollen state of her adopter: of Jude, of mother. She furrows her young brows and ponders a distance away- staring at her talons as she recalls the way they’d sliced and ripped: ruined the flesh of her creator. Worry, admittedly, strikes her and she silently hopes that this affair will be less sorrowful.

Still, she is away when it happens- scratching trees with the lethals talons and clamoring a top into the branches as she both utilizes claw and teeth to go higher and higher. Perched and slow to move she balanced with exacting precision and Myrkari notes the way the tawny colored male prances and patrols- how he seems to wait, and watch; but she does not fret immediately and rather she slinks along the canopy with a bizarrely avian quality.

In her throat she feels a sharpness of air as she mimics whistles and pitches of the birds: almost perfectly, in-fact, but so much so that the eerie replication is different. Above the both of them she scampers slowly and minimizes the rattling of branches and leaves- waits until she weave herself into the shadowy areas where the leaves blanket the light. 

Myrkari climbs down with a pace her own, promptly leaping downward towards the earth in a sheer plummet before extending her feet and grasping a branch to catch herself. It creaks and there is a heavy sound of falling; but not hitting the earth, and without hesitation she stares at both Jude and Magus as she hangs upside down: stares at the newborn with wide eyes.

Her fur is red, a soft and creamy tone that seems to be almost blonde in the light; but she darkened by primitive markings on her legs. The fluffy mane and tail are both dark, a brownish red that seems almost black in areas, and though she is earthy: her eyes are an eerily pale, almost white-blue. Blinking and startling in her appearance Myrkari remains balanced, opening her small mouth and speaking up with a curiously growing vocabulary.

“Not dead.” she pauses. “Yeah, not dead. Ooh. Hi- big!” and at that she extends a leg: allowing her claws to grasp at the air as she reaches out to tap a singular talon on Magnus’s cheek. 

you have to become equal in every way

Myrkari

@[peregrine jude] @[magnus]  weirdo coming in