kult
I am a storm that will swallow the children
and I will deliver them to the kingdom of pain
The excitement he feels is barely contained, though outwardly he displays a poker face. Eyes flat, black, otherwise unseeing in appearance- yet they see plenty. They see the others, his family, skirting the borders. Crawling over the land as he does, reeled in by the hunt. He's salivating even, mouth slick with spit and he does quick to swallow the excess moisture.
If ever Kult had felt anything akin to sexual arousal, it would be now. It would be in this moment, in all moments such as this, all those still to come. Not a moment is spared when Kersey encourages him, tells him to pick one. He's almost gotten to speaking just when one approaches them instead.
She's reeled in too, young thing, sleek and dark. Blending into the fading light except for the rush of pigment at her neck and hind. Her own call fades into his Sister's, uniting into something cold and foreboding. If the child noticed, she was too stupid to act on fear. If she remained because she was brave he supposed he should respect that, but he doesn't. He simply watches her through his ill reflecting eyes, sockets veiled in matte.
"Raelynxxxxsss" He hisses on the air, willing his vocals to find his brother. The one with the gift, the one with flame and brimstone. Kult turns to Kersey, a crooked attempt of a smile plastered across his fading brown jaw. Then his breath catches as cold crashes into his chest, sending his neck and head whipping in the direction from which the front emanates.
It is her, he does not have to ask, he does not have to question. The cold surrounds her and dives into his very being with assault. He shakes for a moment, grimacing at the swift drop in temperature, then he is pulling forward. Snaking his way to her, words from her graceful mouth falling on his good ear. Kirin's family. Her words are practically song in themselves, he can sense her desire to reunite with his brother.
"Yess." He speaks, sounding out the word. "Wayra, come. Kirin." He stops and starts as he pleases, forming no sentence structure. He also starts to her against his aching bodies protest, circling her hind quarters and pulling around. He would show her where she was to go, come, his body seems to say.
Ah, but first the reaping. He looks intently to his Sister and Brother, to the young thing standing still as a statue before them. Then he blinks back at the ice girl again, "Take." He smiles, pleased with the evenings events.
.
