delight in devouring ourselves

Kane ⁛ Walker ⁛ Leader “I overcame myself, the sufferer; I carried my own ashes to the mountains; I invented a brighter flame for myself.” — Friedrich Nietzsche

[diva-dearest-deactivated2016020]

She let out a small laugh and continued to mess around with the knife in her hands. It was odd, the whole situation. She rarely ever felt comfortable around strangers, yet here she was, the most comfortable she’s ever been around another person that wasn’t one of the girls.

Her mind drifted to the times where her hair looked very much apart of a roaring fire. It seemed to amuse the girls and they just loved to point out how red her hair could get. Of course, she’d then blow up at them like a bomb and her face would get as red as her hair did. The only thing that didn’t get red were her eyes. Even then, the green reflected the flames and made them appear brighter then they were, which only added to the brightening of the mop of red that sat on her head.

“What do you mean cannot? Everyone can lie?” She asked, a flash of confusion washed over her face before disappearing and it being replaced with the stone cold demeanor it usually wore.

[wolfskinkane-blog]

The fox, growing weary of their meritless means of ensnaring the waves, fell defeatedly at Kane’s side. Letting our a dramatic huff as it slapped the ground with its furry tail, exhausted and distressed. The serene being innately brushed their fingers through its alabaster coat, relieving the critter, effortlessly. “Everything is fleeting, you stubborn little thing,” they endearingly addressed their companion for the day; which responded with an understanding bark. 

“Our tongue never wished to learn the habit,” he responded as if it were as simple as that. When actually thought about, it really was as simple as that. 

“It’s just a practice, is it not? Tricks of the tongue, such as riddles or song,” they articulated slowly, somehow trying to fully grasp this themselves. “We’ve never picked up the habit of the latter either,” the lightly joked; which was very unlike them. “Do you lie often, Cerise?”

[direisms]

Who were they to tell her about the workings of a leader? To tell her that she had no claim to her own heart–though it was hers to begin with? Tiger Lily’s jaw clenched minutely, a steel trap of bitterness and misdirected spite. This was hardly about the stranger at all, but about a series of compounded frustrations that she’d had no time to deal with. Those who called the young queen a ticking time bomb would be correct; the only question was when she would blow. “Even leaders have a right to privacy.” But even as she said it, she knew it was hardly true. When was the last time she had had a private moment? One that was entirely hers, that she wasn’t spent forced to be Something to Someone? 

Long before her father died–that’s when. An irrepressible sigh heaved its way from her chest and she spun, turning her back on the stranger for a moment in an attempt to compose herself. 

[wolfskinkane-blog]

The altercation waging in the young spirit was an alien, and perhaps even an inspiring one. Walkers were not made to commit to inner-battles, as they diligently embodied what they were created for. Had the ancient soul been swayed by their own heart, they would have long chased the Star and shaken hands with their own impending end. To be dust, to scatter, to be free. 

“I haven seen you grapple with what being a leader could mean, but it is not a burden, not unless you wish it to be.” Letting out a sigh, their eyes fell onto approaching figures in the far distance. “We must learn to trust the ones we lead, and understand that our burdens are not meant for us to carry alone. I do hope Zola will help you understand this, before you ruin it.” Their final words aimed towards her heart.

[diva-dearest-deactivated2016020]

Her eyes set back onto the ocean ahead once they sat down. She relaxed a bit, seeing as they didn’t pose any real threat to her and it didn’t seem as if anyone else would be as rude to disturb the two of them. Her fingers absentmindedly played with the small knife she carried around with her when she left camp.

A smile rose on her face and she looked over at him with raised eyebrows. “It’s the hair isn’t it? It does resemble fire doesn’t it,” she mused and took a piece between her fingers. “You should see it when it’s reflecting an actual fire, it’s get even more red.” Diva informed, dropping the piece back into place.

“Am I?” She questioned with furrowed eyebrows. She wouldn’t use compelling to describe herself, not really. She’d use interesting, maybe, but compelling seemed like something that was used for ethereal beauty, and in her own mind she was no where near that.

[wolfskinkane-blog]

Curling, the corner of their lips twisted into a lopsided grin; their eyes distant as they envisaged how illustrious that sight would’ve been. Their mind’s eye had a riveting habit of over visualising scenes to a transcendental level of beauty. One would think this caused for many disappointments, but strangely it didn’t.

“What a sight...” they breathed. They said this as if it were something too precious to share; a hidden kiss in its own sense. Smiling shyly, they moved their gaze back to the oscillating waves. They had been too brash with their words, and the question that followed only forced them to focus on an invisible point more intently.

“We cannot lie,” they excused. With truth engraving itself onto their tongue, they were denied of ever uttering a lie. Most would’ve taken that statement lightly, but its restrictions could be tormenting at times. Fortunately, this was not one they would relate to torment, but more so— well, they weren’t quite sure how to word it, but it caused the red to climb to their cheeks.

[direisms]

Princess. The word tugged at her heart like a bear trap, taking out a small chunk in the process of working it loose. Her expression soured slightly–surely they couldn’t have known what that word meant, and yet she couldn’t help but, like a petulant child, hold it against them. Had they been anyone else, she would have swiftly removed an appendage or two, or at the very least threaten them within in an inch of their life. But there was something Other about them, something so very Other that even she couldn’t work up the energy to charge forward in accusation. Instead, her lips pulled in a mockery of a smile. “My heart is my own business, Stranger. Hardly Zola’s and certainly not yours.” A subtle venom lurked just under her tone, like a snake rattling just out of sight in the grass. Watch where you step. 

[wolfskinkane-blog]

Although sensing the ebbing change in her guise, the soul made no effort to back off. Knowing of her volatile nature, they were curious as to how far one could push before she snapped. This was not played out for mere amusement, but the need to understand her workings. 

“As it should be for any individual.“ Humoured by her reply, the Walker unsuccesfly stifled the amused smile from tracing their lips. “You’ll come to learn that ownership over one’s heart is not a luxury leaders possess.“ The forewarning was not uttered to frighten her off from the responsibilities that awaited her, but was structured as a reminder which they often had to repeat to themselves.

[wolfskinkane-blog]

Halfbreed & Pedigreed ⁛ Loki & Kane

[prisxner-blog]

“You are here to play?” his eyes widened, a motion to juxtapose nicely with the purr that smoothed over the shock in his tone. Something about the creature felt vaguely different than those he was used to, though it looked human in every way. An eminence radiated from the being, setting Loki’s teeth on edge. There was a power to it, he could tell as much, but that was all. What it was was a mystery to the Lost Boy. Whatever it was that he felt, it threatened the boy, setting his teeth on edge.

Disbelief still colored his thoughts, unable to allow himself to believe that this thing would want to play with him. Hands curled into fist, biting into the tender skin of his palms to keep himself sharp. Confusion could lose him a game, as could distraction. “A game, of course,” his voice stayed smooth, even as his stomach churned, a warning that something was off. He didn’t need the sensation to warn him, intuition seemed to be doing it’s job without subconscious hints. “You can chose, if you’d like,” a rare offer from the boy.

“Or I can.”

Loki’s tongue darted out, dragging over his lower lip before it felt along the ridges of his teeth. They weren’t as sharp as a merman’s, or even a crocodiles. But they were still plenty dangerous from a boy who appeared human in every visible way. Loki’s head lolled to one side as he awaited a response, the bones cracking as he moved. And then he stood still, internalizing the impatience that sped up his pulse. The boy would have liked an answer yesterday, but something kept him from demanding it from the other. Patience was all he would allow himself to show.

[wolfskinkane-blog]

A belated sense of dread trickled down their spine, syrupy in the way it dripped and slipped in every crevice between each vertebra in their backbone; forcing a shiver from the frighted being. Yes, frightened- terrified, if not even more. This creature was not of this land or the land beyond, and how they could bypass their meticulously stacked guard was alarming. They could easily blame it on the indistinguishable blood that coursed through the unknown creature’s veins, but it was their own curiosity that put them in this predicament.

Albeit the shiver which rattled their form, they managed to sustain their composure thereafter. "We have never played a game," they softly expressed, secretly hoping this would deter them from wanting to play. Of course, this was not a lie, because fabrications never pricked the tip of their tongue or the back of their throat. They never had the time to play and were in no position to be doing just that with their kin.

"You are a curious thing," they carefully worded, their scent alone capable of luring the Walker closer. "You are of too many things and yet not...Have you any knowledge of a panther?" They questioned, assuming that Ania would only be around them in that form, or so they direly hoped. If anything would've happened to another of their kind, it would be too much to whistand.

[diva-dearest-deactivated2016020]

She shook her head softly at the response she received from her apology. She discretely watched the stranger interact with the animal that had wandered onto the beach. She cocked her head slightly, never seeing someone interact with an animal that didn’t mean killing it in means of food. It was a bit odd to her, but intrigued her nonetheless. 

Diva’s lips turned upwards into a tiny smile as she watched the animal. Her eyes landed back onto the male as a laugh had escaped from them. She furrowed her eyebrows a bit upon seeing them suppress it a few seconds after. 

She raised her eyebrows and nodded gesturing to a spot near her. “I don’t mind, you’re not imposing, I’m not really doing much anyways.” She replied with a small shrug and an attempt at a kind smile.

[wolfskinkane-blog]

Their smile retraced their demure lips, “thank you.” With their permission, they lowered to the ground, still keeping a considerate space between them. The consummate being remained on guard although their countenance and poise would make it seem otherwise. Their eyes brushed back onto the mortal beyond the gape, only now letting themselves take in her foreign grace. Strands that defied sunrise itself with its fiery hues, it left an incandescent imprint of her in their mind.

“We’ve never laid eyes on a personification of a firestorm,“ their tone teasing, but it lost its effect since their frigid blues appeared to be enamoured with the tint. Curious about the world outside of Never's land, where children were moulded from flames.

"You are a compelling sight." Gently, they apologised; always quick to regret their words, even though they never shoot them to offend.

[wolfskinkane-blog]

Fainting Spells

[twisty-curly-blog]

Whatever he had said, at first, had Curly thinking he was about to meet his end. And then–just like that–the creature came back down. It was as if they had understood him, and were willing to forgive Curly for daring to cross paths with them. He wanted to run when the wolf made its way closer, but this situation had become so strange he was starting to believe all of it was inside his head. He didn’t know much about wolves to begin with, sure, and animals on the island seemed to follow their own rules regardless–but changing eye colours had him certain this was nothing but a hallucination. 

Not to mention, well…animals didn’t tend to like Curly. He thinks he can remember a time, long ago (back when he wasn’t nearly this tall) when that wasn’t true, but nowadays its like they can smell the death on him–both the kind within his chest and the kind he had caused himself. But it’s a welcome change, even if it is unlikely to be a reality, and so when their nose comes into contact, Curly lets his hand linger before bringing it up to lightly pat the thing’s head (was this what you should do with animals?), a hesitant smile on his face. 

“We’re all good then, eh? No trouble?” 

[wolfskinkane-blog]

{All good} The Walker mused lightly to themselves before they nipped at the boy’s fingers. Their bite, playfully light, but there was nothing playful about a sizeable loup seizing one’s fingers between their sharpened teeth, no matter how gentle the bite was. It was aimed to serve as a disappointed reminder; albeit the inability to convey this in words, the harrowing disapproval that shadowed over their eyes displayed this emotion well. The scent of blood was haunting, and it didn’t matter how profusely or repetitively one wrung their tainted hands in the revered ocean, the ghastly smell was permanent.

But alas, the timeless beast was not spiteful nor unforgiving; and despite what hesitancy might’ve rattled their own heart, the island’s heart preserved with the hope for the inhabitants of these lands. Naturally, the Walker had no right to question this and so let that overwhelming belief in the mortals and immortal alike sway their own core.

Quick to feel shamed over their behaviour, they mended the light imprint their teeth left with an apologetic touch. Nuzzling the inflicted hand against the tip of their muzzle. {Foolish, frightened boys} their heart ached.

[direisms]

“True hearts in this place are hard to come by, of late.” It was a fact, albeit an unfortunate one. The Lost Boys were polluted by rage and revenge, the Pirates by greed, the Merpeople by vanity, and her own people by a sheer combination of uncertainty and anger. They were all dangerous. They were all impure. The land of Never was not as it had once been. But they had a point–Zola, much like Tiger Lily’s father, had been simply weathered by her years and experiences rather than darkened by them. Perhaps it was something that came with age and understanding, or perhaps it was something that would never come to the young warrior. She wasn’t sure she knew, and she was even less sure that it mattered, in that moment. (She tended to be near-sighted when she was enraged, as she seemed to constantly be these days.)

[wolfskinkane-blog]

A trace of admiration adorned their gentle bearings; being this close up, they could catch a glimpse of the leader the girl could come to be. "And what of your heart, princess?” A knowingness finished their tone; for the Walker could already catch a whiff of the trepidation that tainted her soul. They had witnessed and even grieved over the loss of her father— as they did with every lost soul. They could narrate her pain as if it were their very own; a curse and a blessing from carrying over-bearing hearts. They understood how Peter’s departure affected her equally to the abandoned boys, if not more. With sincerity and genuine care, they peered at the queen to be. “Will you ever permit it to recover? The past is a dangerous and futile weight to haul.”

[wolfskinkane-blog]

The Wolf Moon ⁛ Nerissa & Kane

[thequeen-nerissa]

Deliberately, Nerissa’s lips curl into a knowing smile. She has half expected a visitor - it was true many often dared to be at the lagoon only at full moon. And she knew it was that they feel safer, the bright moon rays their guardian against any threat of confrontation with her kind,  on land. However, only a handfull did at all, for she, and her siblings are still deadly, even confined to the waters. They have their song, and their glamour, even when it failed to have any effect on the nerverland-born.

Earlier thoughts of melancholy having their momentary share of freedom, are now safely tucked back into their cage, once more shrouded in darkness. Such thoughts were weakness, and if she wanted to remain queen for an infinite number of moons more, she must be vigilant, cold, and unreachable, yet enchanting, all the same time.

Her siblings bow down to the strongest, most beautiful and most influential….the most ruthless. And she must remain so.

Gazing up into the shadows of a figure so unfamiliar, yet whose presence was comforting, as natural to her as the island’s magic and its mystery, she began to wonder. Who are you? There was something unsettling about the face hidden in the shadows. But Nerissa could not, for the life of her, articulate what it was that startled her about this stranger.

The voice that responded to her was of a male’s. Nerissa not knowing that he is a Walker (and not quite believing that they exist at all) would contest the stranger was a he. His voice captivated her with its sincerity. She fell silent for a moment, craving to hear his voice once more…hanging onto his eloquence. “I do not mind company,” she answered, smiling up at him with all the brightness of the moon above.

Closer, he seemed to be. As the words rolled off his tongue, and the moonlight permitted her to see his face at last, her grey eyes instantly softened at the sight of such exquisite beauty. He was delicate, with his golden hair and crystal eyes, thatmade her heart ache. How had she never seen such features before?

In awe of his beauty as much as he was by hers, she spoke at last, “Almost, yes.” She looked upon him with reverence. For if there was anything Nerissa adored most in the world, it was breathtaking beauty. “Will you come closer so I can see your face? I will not dream of harming you.”

[wolfskinkane-blog]

“We do not understand the webbing of lies, and would soon be ensnared for our credulity because of it.” Their undertones were stripped from any bitterness or means of offence. They only spoke of the truth and only understood it, for their tongue had never been familiarised with falsehood and pretence. Yet still, they were well-acquainted with the makings of the mer, and knew deception slithered around their tongues in intoxicating ease. Beautiful as they were vain, and eloquent as they were perfidious.

With an apologetic countenance, they returned a tender regard. The expression concise, as they were swallowed up by the darkness within one gracious step back. In reaction to their movement, the moonlight appeared to be more illuminating; compelled to streatch its beams of light a little bit further just to find the hidden creature, once more. It would seem that with the Star secreted away, the sky pressingly reached out to the closest thing that matched. In this sense, it was the first Walker, created in all the paramount grandeur and grace, the Star herself embodied.

"We ask you not to be offended, We can only measure your hazardness according to your allure. And by the Star, you are breathtaking.” They brazenly voiced; enshrouded in the shadows from the surrounding rocks. 

Kane allowed their eyes to capture the paragon below; truly, breataking was an understatement. For she thieved them from any concious thought— this had happened only once before. However, the being was far too highly to reciprocate such trivial reverance. They were their creator, after all.

It was punishing, forcing themselves to keep at a distance, when they too would’ve liked to discover what lied hidden from a distance. But still, the wise being remained stagnant, despite the pull of their own yearning heart. 

“How favoured you are, to have the ability to roam not only the lands but the depths of the island. We would be envious if we were permitted to feel as such.” Kane uttered, although, so low, it was hardly a disruptant to the silence. They were creatures void of covetousness, but driven by curiosity. And having memorised every step of the island to heart, they still never had the luxury to see its vertical extent. “Would it be too impertinent to ask what it is like down there?” 

[wolfskinkane-blog]

Fainting Spells

[elksakeeper]

The gesture, though familiar, has gone unpractised for so long that Novi finds themselves flinching away out of habit. They do so hate to be touched, they always have, but more so now that even a fleeting brush of skin-on-skin causes them to involuntarily see every excruciating memory the other being has to offer. But Kane has always had their own set of rules as far as Novi is concerned, and their nervous fingers return to skitter gently over the soft fur of the Wolf’s muzzle for the moment they allow it. It is easier with animals at least.

{Well enough} they reply mildly, impossibly fond, and never one to complain. How like Kane to delve straight into the heart of things. They have missed them, and if they don’t say so, they hope it shows.

{How do you fare? It… feels like a long time since I saw you last.} And it worries them. Their people are so few, and so separate from each other, it suits them ill. The last Novi saw in the flesh was Saka, and that had been some weeks ago now.

[wolfskinkane-blog]

With an altruistic streak and a solicitous heart, Kane distorted the stigmatization that came with being a leader. Bearing one tempestuous heart, might’ve deemed them as empathetic. But with two, it was inevitable to deny the demand of feelings from being felt. As arduous as the albatross around their neck might’ve been, the ancient creature would never allow their devitalized mind to stutter a complaint; so one could imagine the shackles that restrained their tongue. They had no right to question or demean what gift their creators had bestowed upon them.

A silent sigh passed their thrumming heart, comforted that their brethren was at fair ease. 

The large loup encircled the other; Their ears stiffening attentively as they took heed of their surroundings before they could grant themselves the permission to continue this exchange. {Thirteen crescents,} they counted; always keeping track of the days and nights with each passing phase from the moon. {We are constant.} They replied for a heart that was not their own. 

{The ethers, however...} Drifting off, they brought attention to the shift in the air. The seasons had altered to a more temperate path, something long missed and forgotten. 

[wolfskinkane-blog]

Halfbreed & Pedigreed ⁛ Loki & Kane

[prisxner-blog]

Far away. Far, far away. It was the only goal Loki had when he was unshackled with such haste, tossed out with such force. The boy hadn’t the slightest idea of what had gotten into Slightly, and he was aware that were he summoned, he would be unable to refuse, but instinct still told him to run. And he obeyed. No, not afraid, never afraid. But he sensed that something bad were coming, a danger that was not a game. There was nothing playful about the posture and tone of everyone else in the tree, but as prisoner he had not been privy to what it was all about. So distance was the best solution, until he were called back. Loki was just thankful that they had let him out on their own accord. Being punished for games he was not allowed was never fun.

The boy had entered a part of Neverland he scarcely knew in his effort to escape, Purgatory Woods, if he recalled correctly. He had not arrived here since before he had the amulet keeping him captive. He could not understand why. The creatures here did not wish to play with him, a disappointment, but when he caught glimpses of them, Loki was filled with glee regardless. They were beautiful. Abominations was the word everyone liked to use. No one had ever told him what it meant, but Loki had figured it out himself over time, and he agreed entirely. There was no better descriptor of these creatures than beautiful. Though he never understood what was so beautiful about him, when he was called the same by merfolk who hated him. 

Loki continued to run through the forest, the beauty surrounding him distracting him of the troubles back at the Tree. But his distraction didn’t last long, muscles tensing as he felt someone’s gaze on him, hands clawed in case he was attacked. “If you’re not here to play, leave me alone!”

[wolfskinkane-blog]

Biting back on their teeth, their jaw tensed as the muscle strained itself. The atavistic being was profoundly confused by the male that stood before them. They were far too fair to be human, and yet, they could’ve sworn they caught a hint of that mortal tang. But then there were two other scents, one far more troubling than the prominent one. It was aging, subtle, barely even there; however, it affected the Walker, paralysing them in their position.

Ania?

Carefully, Kane parted their lips to reply, but their own tongue betrayed them. For once, unsure of how to answer since they were filled with too many questions of their own. Furrowing their brows, the expression looked far too quaint for a creature so regal, but they wore it all the same. Their crystallised irises continued to dissect the boy before them, their peculiarities foreign to their senses. They could trace the mer in them, and so, they could only assume that they were a cross-breed of sorts. But still, that didn’t explain why they could smell their kin off of them. It was unsettling and forced their thoughts to wander to the worst.

“Play?” Their tongue lifted on its own. “What is it do you wish to play?” They found themselves asking. Apparently, they had been long preoccupied with the workings in their head, that their body decided to act without permission. Slowly settling back to the happenings around them, Kane elevated to their feet; their gaze finally averting from the boy and onto the critter slumbering at their feet. The distraction was brief, and they were captivated by the conglomerate human—mer? across them just as soon as they fixed their eyes back onto them. 

[diva-dearest-deactivated2016020]

She flinched at the sudden warmth and shifted in her spot in the sand. The voice was one she had never heard before, so she glanced over to look at the stranger. Her eyebrows furrowed a bit, not sure where the stranger would be placed among the few groups she knew about. He was in no way a Lost Boy, she’d know one if she saw one, and he was no Pirate. Diva continued to examine him until she realized it looked more like she was staring.

Another thing she noted was that he apologized, no one ever apologized to her. She wasn’t used to it, so it confused her. 

She moved the hair from her face and directed her gaze back at the ocean in front of her. It bothered her that she didn’t know where the stranger is from on the island. It would continue to bug her, but she decided she rather not ask.

Diva nodded a bit, and set her hands in her lap, still looking ahead. “It’s fine, I shouldn’t have snapped.” She muttered, it being just barely audible.

[wolfskinkane-blog]

With a subdued smile, they dismissed her apology; they were in the wrong, after all. “We intruded on your thoughts,” their tone rueful, still. Kane returned their docile blues on the wandering critter; the fauna enthralled by the crashing waves as it attempted to capture each passing current between their jaws. The Walker, rarely amused, had difficulty in containing the chuckle that passed their upturned lips. Albeit their effort at stifling it, the breeze still managed to catch their melodious mirth.

The sound, foreign to their own ears caused them to pinch their lips in apprehension. Too frightened and ashamed to feel joyous, they swallowed down their elation and returned to their self-possessed veneer. 

“We do not wish to be imposing, but may we join you? The beast is an obstinate little thing. And sadly, they listen to us only when it is beneficial for them.” Kane meekly voiced; feeling terrible for disturbing her time alone.

[brokennibs-blog]

The boy’s words served only to confuse Nibs even further.  Normally so level-headed and calm, the boy couldn’t help but feel his emotions battling about within him, pulling him one way then the next in all too dizzyingly short of a time.  Nibs had no idea why this… thing, because Nibs was growing less and less certain of his boyness as the seconds ticked on, had expected anything of him, not least his own observation abilities or lack thereof.  

Discomfort pricked at the back of Nibs’ neck at the other’s familiar, almost affectionate tone.  People did not speak that way to Nibs.  The Lost Boys didn’t speak to him like that, his so-called allies didn’t speak to him like that, hell even P– even before, he hadn’t been spoken to like that, so to have an outsider address him with sincerity and a smile was as foreign to Nibs, as if his mother had descended right in front of him, begging forgiveness for abandoning him so many years earlier.  

But it was the next words from the boy that struck through Nibs like a heavy blow.  How did he know Pan? Nibs’ thoughts raced wildly.  It wasn’t even the modern term they used for him, but this creature knew Pan’s proper name?  He’d not heard the name Peter befoul anyone’s lips in more time than he could count, and before he knew what he was doing, the familiar cold hatred he experienced whenever memories of Pan flashed through his brain descended upon him.

Eyes narrowed, shoulders hunched as though he’d been wounded in the few seconds their conversation had started, Nibs glared back towards the boy.  Regardless of whatever affection, or gratitude the person seemed to be radiating, Nibs could only taste bitterness.  

“I’m not,” he finally declared, his voice a cracked, hoarse whisper, far less strong than he could have hoped.  “I’m not his, I’m my own.”  He hated how his tone betrayed just how much hurt still ached out at any mention of his once beloved leader.  

He could barely keep himself from spitting the bitterness rising up within him out of his mouth.  Half of him wanted to attack the boy - bash any thoughts or memories of that cursed smiling Pan from existence, while another half wanted to run as far away as he could.  Eyes glaring, his feet seemed to decide for him, taking a shaky step away from the beaming boy in front of him.  Resisting all his instincts, he uttered out one last, dark statement, dripping with a century full of hate and hurt.  “I don’t know who you are, but you’d be far better off forgetting anything about Pan.  You’ll never see him again.”  Swallowing an acrid lump in his throat, he continued.  “He’s never coming back.”

[wolfskinkane-blog]

“I’m not his, I’m my own.”

How plausible that would’ve sounded had it left convinced lips. No one was their own, not matter how much they willed themselves to break free from their makers; they would always be theirs. It was bittersweet and sometimes harsh to admit, but it was the truth. The Lost Boys had Peter’s claw marks scarring their otherwise, adamantine skin. There were traces of him in the way the boys spoke or the way they carried themselves; it didn’t matter how much they denied it or tried to abandon whatever ties they had with the Child King, he would always be there. And only if they truly wished it, they would open their supercilious eyes long enough to see him in each other.

Funny, how they only managed to see this now. This realisation caused them to avert their gaze in shame. The possibility that calamities could’ve had an entirely different outcome graced his mind, but that discernment was neglected. Kane refused to mourn over actions committed, or the actions they abstained themselves from carrying out in the past. There would never be a value it that.

The Walker chose not to abolish the other’s statement, seeing that they had already disrupted the boy’s head enough. And by trespassing any further, the likeliness of them leaving unscathed would be improbable.

Although they themselves were not triggered by the spiteful remark, the vessel around their neck shuddered. And had they encased their hand around the precious stone, they would’ve felt the rupture at its end; another fractured edge served as a painful reminder that their heart was never their own. In tow, they felt their own chest tighten, the soreness seemingly tangible as they gripped their chest. Tangling the fur covering their cloak between their willowy digits.

This ache caused the smile to wither from their restrained features; the Walker, a long-suffering creature that learned how to withhold their own torment from being displayed so carelessly. They wore their countenance like a second-skin— eminent and immaculate; the ancient creature aged in a blink of an eye. 

Locking their frigid irises on the child across from them, they could taste the fear and distrust that swam through their veins. "Perhaps,” the elder murmured as they discreetly traced their fingers to their necklace; begging the pith to bear its hurt. “Do you know what marks the formidable salient, boy?” Letting the question stain the air between them before they continued in the same shrewd undertone. “They never actually leave...We don’t expect you to regard our tongues as true. But perhaps you could consult your eyes, when thou art intrepid enough to face them.” 

[flickerinyoureye]

A wolf. Flicker’s eyes widened in surprise as her gaze fell on the creature, standing out starkly against the dark winter colours of the forest. She’d never seen a real wolf, not even at the zoo, so they seemed almost mythical to her, animals that lived in far off places and fairy tales rather than something she’d ever see for herself. Yet here one was, watching her intently. 

Flicker stared back and cocked her head to the side too, staying as still as possible. Wild animals that were not in zoos were a rather nerve wracking concept, as calm as this one seemed, and she felt rooted to the spot. It was a very beautiful creature though. She was content to watch it. 

[wolfskinkane-blog]

Through narrowed lids, the Walker observed the tight-lipped human before them. Tantalising in her own natural way, she blended in with her background so effortlessly. This forced the ancient being to hold their steady gaze for a moment longer, not shifting it in an effort not to lose trace of the girl. {What a riveting, little thing,} they thought to themselves before backing out of the contest first. It was trifling to sustain it any longer, especially with a spirit that could only be described as a halcyon.

Tranquilized by the lost girl, they nestled against their paws. Blinking, they silently asked the girl to carry on, they wished them no harm.

[direisms]

The voice–more a whisper of the wind than anything else–caught Tiger’s ear and she turned, bow drawn tight in a whirlwind of action. A stranger, seemingly unarmed, and yet what kind of fool stayed in the woods unarmed? Her head cocked to the side as they made no sudden movements, bow lowering slightly to point at the ground. She was certainly fast enough to re-aim if they chose to move. “The Elders do right by most accounts.” She answered slowly, voice cautious and calculating. Cryptic at best, though what else was she meant to be with a stranger appearing in the wood. Eye contact was as steady as her voice, hands far from shaking, even as she mentally retraced what they could possibly be looking at behind her. She was perhaps a bit uncertain, but far from completely shaken.

[wolfskinkane-blog]

Unflinchingly, they traced their eye from the tapered end and slowly back up to its unfaltering source. Dominant as she was, the pair were not playing on equal grounds. For there was nothing mightier than a sharpened tongue, and the indifference gained over time. They were not an antagonising creature, and so they remained in their designated spot. “Indeed,” they eloquently agreed; tenderness softening their perceptive leer. Kane had a mutual sense of regards for the elders, especially Zola, whom they spent eons accompanying in their beastly form. “We are taken by her…She carries her own thoughts and still maintains an unblighted heart.” The Walker could only assume that it was because they lead such short lives in comparison. But if there was anything they hoped she would learn from their guide, it would be that. “That is a mark of a true leader, or so we’ve come to believe.”

[wolfskinkane-blog]

Fainting Spells

[twisty-curly-blog]

However unwelcome it may be, Curly nonetheless liked more than anything to visit the Natives. Unfortunately, this often meant rushing through Purgatory, memorizing paths to avoid accidentally walking too long and coming out of it with his mind lost. He’d never had any issues so far, which only contributed to his arrogance, proudly boasting to anyone who would listen that he could ‘lead a group through with m’eyes shut tight!’ In fact, on occasion he doubted it was really all that dangerous to begin with, sure there walked nightmarish creatures, but if he’d managed it–and the Natives could live behind it–what was the real harm there? 

But something stopped his rushing feet this time–like a force he couldn’t see flashing lights and telling him to turn around. Stubborn as he was, of course he didn’t listen, but it did pike his interest enough to stop and look around. A sound of feet pressing against dirt, and now he was certain he wasn’t alone. And poor Curly rarely ever wandered with too many weapons–if any at all–and whether it was recklessness or confidence, the boy himself wasn’t sure. Nor did he care to pick his own mind and figure it out. 

His body chilled, fear setting in as much as he hated to admit, and he was ready to set off again until he heard an antagonizing growl. He turned quickly, stumbling back in fear and falling back as his eyes set on a creature he had never seen before. A wolf, he thought, as it registered in his mind. He couldn’t remember, were wolves hunters of humans? Surely they must be. Every creature on this island, after all, carried the motto ‘killed or be killed’–humans included. “Sweet Cat,” he muttered, scrambling back, eyes wide and searching for anything that could protect him–and failing. “There, there,” he said, a nervous laugh escaping his lips, “scat?” 

[wolfskinkane-blog]

Cat? The wolf snarled in feigned disdain; although really, the Walker was not offended at all. There was always something special about Pan’s boys, they would always sway the soul in their mischievous favor. If not because of their own sentiments, but for the deep affection, the pith around their neck possessed. Endearment welled up in them, amused by every syllable that fell past the adolescent’s terrorised lips. Perhaps they had misjudged the humans, but they quickly reminded themselves that games of ‘perhaps’ were for the naïve.

Shaking their head, the wolf lowered their gaze, their body gradually inclining to the ground. This gesture aimed to put the lost boy’s mind at some ease. Slowly, the wolf stalked up to them. Their eyes, once an electrifying amber, now soothing azures. An exaltation danced in their painted hues, turning them into something that should be treated with regard. {Come} They mindfully warned the human; there was no reason for blood to spill. And it wouldn’t be long before the fog would begin to toy with the workings of their mind. 

As the higher being drew closer, they brushed the tip of their nose against the mortal’s digits. Relieving what they believed to be was a harmless human, nothing like their savaged counterparts. There was much to fear indeed, but not them, never them. They had watched over these souls from the beginning of time. And harm…They would never wish that on any of them, despite what sins they might’ve committed.

[diva-dearest-deactivated2016020]

It was cold. You’d assume Diva would be used to chilly weather but she wasn’t and never has been, and the best form of a coat she had was way to dirty for her to wear, so she was sleeveless. Her eyes were a stone cold green and her fiery red hair that framed her face. Her skin was quite pale despite being outside so much, and the scar on her face only added to making her look dangerous. It seemed as if her face had a permanent scowl, or maybe she was just constantly in a bad mood. It was a rare occasion where she would actually smile, she did smile but it wasn’t real, most of them were forced or one with a look of disgust.

She sat comfortably on the white sand of Cannibal Cove, staring out at the waves crashing against the shore. I should’ve brought my coat she thought and pulled her knees against her chest. She rested her chin on her knees and closed her eyes, allowing her mind to wander about what it’d be like if she wasn’t stuck on this godforsaken island.

Her eyes shot open a few moments later upon hearing someones seemingly obnoxious footsteps. “Could you walk any louder? We’re on a beach yet I can hear your footsteps from a mile away.” She grumbled, keeping her gaze on the waves ahead of her.

[wolfskinkane-blog]

A sedated sigh passed relaxed lips, as the Walked calmly roamed the meadows in serene silence. There they were, enveloped in a place where time stood still. It was too late for havoc and too early to refuse slumber. A time where only bedridden insomniacs meandered. But as expected, tranquil quiet was always short-lived, and not before long, a small bark distracted the lethargic being. Returning their gaze to their absent tracks, they fell upon the critter they had aided in the passing day. The hybrid, eager to catch up despite its healing ailment. Kane glanced down at it before shaking their head, unsure of what to make of their little tag along. But still, they said nothing and chose to continue down their aimless path.

The absent-minded soul lost track of how they ended up following the fox themselves, or how they had even passed the meadows. It wasn’t until they stepped foot on the pallid beach did they snap back to reality. 

Stiffening in their spot, they took no notice of the girl until she spoke up. In turn, this caused Kane to shoot the little beast a weary gaze. “Be still,” they hushedly pleaded with the animal as they moved to depart, but the winged-fox protested as it continued towards the water. 

“Forgive us,” they apologised as they stood off to the side. Letting their gaze fall upon the girl for a brief moment, they noted her frigid state. Without asking permission, they slipped off their wolfskin cloak and cautiously draped it over her shoulders.