Post by Scatharin on Jul 11, 2020 17:53:36 GMT
(Amura )
The days had provided little mercy for his patience. Nonetheless, he persevered, sojourning from facility to facility. He was close, his instincts guided him with the precision the gods had granted him. Yet he couldn’t help but lament bin their silence and absence, and the hollowness they left in their wake. Yet he’d gleaned wisdom from his search: to find a being that functioned without sight, he too would have to blind himself to the burdens of fear and frustration.
A rugged black cloak remained soundless as he walked in the shadows of the cavern. His singular red slit of an optic the only thing offering remote light. His scans indicated that he was close to his target, and the sounds of rocks and stone moving in the broad chasm chided him to increase his pace. He kept close to the wall. He wasn’t certain if his target was aware of his stalking. He hand’t made the mistake of labeling her as incompetent or unintelligent despite the belligerence in his reports. Amura… He thought quietly, Such a gentle name. Like a word in a song, or a tune to be whistled.
I wonder what inspired such a designation for such a particular lifeform. He considered. His slit narrowed ever so slightly as he shut his optic from behind his mask, inhaling another whiff of cavern air. He extended his claw from within the recesses of his cloak, clenching and unclenching. Scatharin was close. he could practically feel the metals of the cybertronian in his palm. He opened his crimson eye once more, tracing over the crest in his helm that had sealed his other shut. He’d already uttered the proper carnations for challenging prey, and to pass yet another trial. Unlike so many other trials and tribulations he’d been obligated to, this one boasted the challenge of not bringing deliberate harm to his target.
Naturally, he’d brought a few tools to help him accomplish the task, and tuned his regular arsenal accordingly. I know you’re here…my instincts strum a song such potent promise…
The days had provided little mercy for his patience. Nonetheless, he persevered, sojourning from facility to facility. He was close, his instincts guided him with the precision the gods had granted him. Yet he couldn’t help but lament bin their silence and absence, and the hollowness they left in their wake. Yet he’d gleaned wisdom from his search: to find a being that functioned without sight, he too would have to blind himself to the burdens of fear and frustration.
A rugged black cloak remained soundless as he walked in the shadows of the cavern. His singular red slit of an optic the only thing offering remote light. His scans indicated that he was close to his target, and the sounds of rocks and stone moving in the broad chasm chided him to increase his pace. He kept close to the wall. He wasn’t certain if his target was aware of his stalking. He hand’t made the mistake of labeling her as incompetent or unintelligent despite the belligerence in his reports. Amura… He thought quietly, Such a gentle name. Like a word in a song, or a tune to be whistled.
I wonder what inspired such a designation for such a particular lifeform. He considered. His slit narrowed ever so slightly as he shut his optic from behind his mask, inhaling another whiff of cavern air. He extended his claw from within the recesses of his cloak, clenching and unclenching. Scatharin was close. he could practically feel the metals of the cybertronian in his palm. He opened his crimson eye once more, tracing over the crest in his helm that had sealed his other shut. He’d already uttered the proper carnations for challenging prey, and to pass yet another trial. Unlike so many other trials and tribulations he’d been obligated to, this one boasted the challenge of not bringing deliberate harm to his target.
Naturally, he’d brought a few tools to help him accomplish the task, and tuned his regular arsenal accordingly. I know you’re here…my instincts strum a song such potent promise…