[Celestine]

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HAVEN FOUND BEYOND TREACHEROUS PEAKS

[attr="class","fatecontainer1temp1"] [attr="class","fateboxtemp1"] 31 MOONS [break] [attr="class","fateboxtemp1"] MOLLY (SHE/HER) [break] [attr="class","fateboxtemp1"] DEMISEXUAL [break] [attr="class","fateboxtemp1"] CAVE-GUARD [break] [attr="class","fateboxtemp1"] TRIBE

[attr="class","fatecontainer2temp1"][break][break] [attr="class","fatecontenttemp1"] It was strange how blood could serve to both repulse and allure; but there was a difference between each crimson drop that the eye could not detect. Scent. Where one smelled like danger, pain and loss, the other smelled like promise and salvation. The latter was what drew Haven like a moth to flame. That scent washed over her palate to settle heavy on her tongue with each breath. It was tantalizing. [break][break] Pupils constricting with intrigue, Haven zeroed in on the source. Plump, fresh. She could imagine sinking her teeth into it, filling her belly until it forgot how hunger felt. But it was not hers to have. [break][break] Reeling in her instincts, Haven glanced from the tempting morsel to the one who caught it. Her prey-hunting tribemate. The traditions were still so strange to her, even after nearly four seasons, but there was one thing she knew for certain: each catch was returned to the Tribe's heart. As much as her instincts begged her to take what was on offer before she lost her chance, Haven was learning better. [break][break] 'There will be prey waiting after hunt.' The thought was still a foreign thing. [break][break] Tail flicking in irritation at the slip, Haven snapped her attention back to duty, head tilting skyward in scrutiny. It was a wonder that in a Tribe so insistent on not traveling alone, it would be one of the smallest hunters doing just that. Haven had never been one for needless favors, but this strange group of cats had done so much for her over the moons. The least she could do was keep the tiny snowball from being snatched by a wandering raptor. [break][break] Haven had found the small prey-hunter — Moon, she was fairly sure — hunting alone on the scree-covered slope, seemingly unconcerned for the risk it put her in. Any hunter alone on the slope was at risk enough; to add her small size and stark white pelt to the mix, the eagles may as well be seeing an early-whitened hare. So with little conversation and a clear intent to guard, Haven had settled just out of the way, gaze scouring rock and sky alike.

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Ghost the Undead Goddess[break]
NOTES:

[attr="class","trinCredits"]TABLE BY TRINITY @ ADOXOGRAPHY

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