fey stuff

The Cat Approaches

The old gods gave us invisible wings, raven feathers that took us deep into the night, allowing us to bathe in the luminous blood of the stars. The old gods created us free, so we knew no bounds nor fear. We passed the land, taking what is ours, and nature blessed us, crowning us with leaves and moss. The old gods offered us endless grace, so that we could enchant the world for our enjoyment. The glamour that never stopped shining, unless we wanted to show our true selves – fangs, talons, wildness. It was terrifying but also even more tempting than beauty.

The old gods gave us power. They gave us courts to rule, beautiful music to dance to, sharp minds to out clever our opponents, and craft skill to amaze lower races with our beautiful art.

But the old gods can take it all away so easily. Just as easily as Cat separated a paw from his holy body, to give us sky, fire, snow, trees, air, and earth.

Yes, they can take it away. And now the gods are waking up, their souls rise in boundless hunger and thirst. Angry at those who dared to forget about the most cherished of offerings. One so sweet it could satisfy a hunger ancient, quench a thirst eternal.

Flesh and blood of the fae kind.

Our lands will be awash with our souls, eaten alive by the Great One. We knew this would happen, and now the bottomless depth opens its maw once again to swallow us all.

The Cat.
A Devourer.
He approaches, slashing his tails over our exposed backs.

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Forest is where I belong. My gods live there.