◎ eclipsed moon's bIoodlust | khelkah wtae

Instructions

trigger warnings! horror, bIood, d3ath, violence, grief ◎ Prologue Xya glanced upwards, drowning in the gaze of the full moons. Beneath him was a pool of red, and it stained the ground, stained his fur. He blinked, hard. He could still taste his last meal. It had been too little to sustain him, and he would need to hunt again soon. For now, though, he would forget about that, lose himself in his evening ritual. “Thank you for your sacrifice.” He said a silent prayer as he delicately buried b0nes—remnants of his meal—in the stained soil beneath him. “May you find peace in the life that lies beyond.” That night, under the omnipresent watchful glare of the moons, he allowed himself to feel again. Most of the time, the only way to get through the life he had created for himself was to shut out the feelings and wrap himself in a cocoon of numbness. Not tonight, though. Tonight, as with every twofull moon, he would allow himself to feel the pain and grief that was denied of him. He thought back to every life he had taken this past twomoon, and as he did this, sorrow began to well up within him like rain pounding on sodden ground. “You must do what’s necessary,’”he had always told himself. But this, this terrible thing that he’d become, was too far. It was raining lightly now. Droplets of water beaded on his fur like tears he wouldn’t—couldn’t—bring himself to shed. The rain slid into the bIood beneath him, swirling into the red and diluting the colour. He smiled at this. It was, in a way, similar to what he was doing now. Diluting the pain with water, in his case tears. After the first time he snapped, they gave him a new name. Sahav'ki. It hadn’t been his fault, truly. Thinking back on that harrowing day, all he could remember was a dark haze of red. So much red. He had dully noticed when the screaming stopped, but farther than that, his memory was a blur. Since nobody would speak to him but the criminals, assassins, and low scum of the world, he was never able to gather a full account of what had happened. A few moons after the—what did they call it?—the ‘Twomoon Reckoning’ was when his picture began to appear in the Night Market. At first the wanted posters were sporadically placed, and would pop up at random intervals during his sojourn. After a while, though, as he went on sating his eternal hunger, they began to fall into a regular rhythm. Every step of his journey he would come across someone who wanted to mar his path, someone who didn’t and would never understand the pain he kept inside himself. They would often attempt to bargain with him, or try some clever trick. It never ended well, for either party. The rain began to fall heavier, streaking thick curtains across the sky and lashing the ground below. The bIood pooling beneath him was almost entirely diluted, more water than anything else by this point. Xya placed one dripping paw over the freshly-dug grave that lay before him, silently willing the soul that remained to peacefully fall into the afterlife. “Now I can get out of this blasted downpour.” He paused, stealing one last hopeful glance at the moons, then turned and slipped into the forest, leaving only darkness, bIood, and a small mound of soil behind. A small, dark figure stood, perfectly poised, at the edge of the treeline. Ears perked, they watched the almortennamine with a fervent interest, then darted into the shadows. ◎ Act I There were three questions. “Why am I like this?” That was the question that had haunted Xya since birth. Even after all this time, it burned in his mind and demanded an answer. “Why am I different?” That question was one of his own, one he discovered as he grew older. “What if I’m supposed to enjoy it?” This question was the darkest one, the one that floated to the surface of his mind during his worst days. The forest was eerie at dusk. The last of the dying light filtered weakly through the dense canopy, casting flickering shadows on the forest floor. It was strangely silent; there was no wind and the night was still. Xya liked to hunt at night. It made it easier when his prey was asleep. At least, that’s what he told himself. “Weak.” A strangely familiar sign filled his thoughts. “You would do so much better if you liked it, you know.” An image flashed through his mind. He was standing confidently, shoulders unburdened. A wicked grin curved across his face, and his teeth were gleaming red. Beneath him lay the fallen bodies of his foes. “You will enjoy it, someday.” A flood of feelings washed over Xya as he witnessed the scene. He was scared. Lonely. And somewhere, buried deep in the darkness that resided within his mind, he felt excited. Disgusted, he turned away. “Stop. This means nothing. I will not change.” His signs were sharp, violent even. [+]