He peered at a lone snowflake that stood upright from the hoarfrost much like his horn from its crown of tresses. Too close, he had to step back until it came into focus just right. It had many points, more so than his own legs, that of three pairs insects come with. Even more than the 8 favored by arachnids. It was geometrical in design and frightening in its intensity. Sunlight filtered through its tips to wink back at him. He rolled in the snow until he was frozen solid and the snow was littered with his pawprints. The shocking thaw gave way to a new perspective on life.
Next stop, a yawning gorge steep in its ferocity. He teetered dangerously close to the edge and peered, and bellowed, his echo lost in the winds. WInd slapped his hair as thunder clapped and rain fell down in sheets. Torrential rains made the ground slippery, urging him one step closer. In his other form he jumped the smaller ledges, spry and precise, and barked while his featherdown kept him dry. And when the clouds retreated, so did Fiend.
And then lastly, a hawk ferociously tearing apart a rabbit in perfect quarters, the head hanging on barely by a vertebrae. This, this was the work of MotherFather in all its great splendor. Each playing its own part to make sure the cycle ran seamlessly. And quite naturally his thoughts passed onto the subject of Comfort. A certain doe of subtle flitting shadows and sharp, sparkling eyes alight with the lives she had taken all for her precious borders. Soft with lilting smile and way of speech, she mastered the dirges of the Black Dog cycles. And one must never forget the mask she so proudly wears. One he favors on her, as it mirrors his own face, a face he's slowly amassing pride for. The change was gradual as it was fiercely soft. He was determined. His brood would grow up unlike him.
Temerity; they will have it in spades. And they will own their skeletal forms short of vanity. And lastly they will be musically inclined storytellers comfortable wherever, a perfect blend of both Comfort and Fiend for music even soothed a monstrous beast such as himself. Let them forge their own paths in the swamp with the striking semblances of bygone kin.
The blessing complete, he returns to where he might find Comfort and his wayward owlcat who has taken a liking to the doe. Perhaps only for her feathery like tail.
