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 First Change: Ananasi

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The Laughing Stranger

Posts : 455
Join date : 2013-08-29

PostSubject: First Change: Ananasi   Thu 01 Jan 2015, 22:31

Touch and scent. Two feelings must suffice to convey the staggering totality of the cosmos. Touch is intimate. Infinitesimal particles first dance, then collide, forming the full sum of tactile perception. Touch is listening. Earth and wind alike shift and relate the disposition of prey. Be quiet and still enough, and earth and air are as a web, guiding predator and prey onward in a cycle of endless fateful meetings.

Scent is the not so different from touch. Feel the particle’s shape, pull it apart, blindly analyze every strand and scrap of information. Embrace or reject the smell, it makes no difference. Instinct categorizes, prioritizes the onrushing stimuli. Decaying growth or unmoving stone or yielding flesh. Taste it. Enjoy it. The best comes later.

Bite down into the softly struggling body. Limbs that once thrashed now only quiver as innards and waste and eggs lose their structure. Jelly softens into soup, running down legs and dripping from jaws. The taste is complex, rich but no enjoyment comes. Distraction in the form of vibration, conveyed through both air and aether. Concepts entwined within reveal a plan, elegant to the point of virtue in design but idiotic in premise: Entropy itself must be halted, stifled forever on a cosmic scale by Stasis.

Stifling, grasping plans to choke life and death and time. Such designs were… wanton. Callous, even. Madness upon hubris. This conclusion was not drawn apropos of nothing. The frantically calculated and misguided laws of Stasis were exposed in a single, cataclysmic scream; a sound that had broken through the soothingly erroneous idea-rich noise. A terrible, unapproachable cry of purposeful hunger and endless pain. A primal sound of a predator too-long denied. Emotion is violent, unfamiliar, but now hiding is impossible. The roaring predator speaks. It lacks the warped clarity of the song, but the larger meaning is not lost-

I have what remains of my mother held fast in my jaws. She was old and strong only a short while before; now she is nothing more than biologically unviable hydraulics. She was the last of her kind… of our kind. I swallow one last oozing morsel and then cocoon her remains quickly, perhaps to pay her respect, perhaps to eat later.
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