SANKTAARK

Bestomomentos II

but I then I finally found my refuge in this cave, where my hallowed noises could wimper. They became miracoulsy  flooded and defeated by the deafening of an unexpected cue, a maliased hum rendered in shadows, enveloping me - I became its subaltern. I relinquished my own pining self-propriety, breathless, as I let it birth me, breed me, I was its toy creature. I could fold this skin, layer upon layer, into a crinklely sponge to hover and destroy, thaw, unwelcome silence par my moisture. I lunged long bony legs, letting them extended into contract to create the most fantastic angles. My arms could sag and endure as  I maneuvered between the rocks, determined to fill any uncomfortable void. My beak was crooked, my tail stiff and sharp. I honed, curdled and then sliced any unwanted interjections, through a peculiar slit-orfice. I often wished it could speak, but that slobbering opening on at the midsection of my third and last leg never said a word. It would rather collect and  process ill-thought words,  sending them back through my crumpled intestines, which could aptly expand like ballons to accomdate any bulking terror. I would wiggle often, believing a discomfort in your own skin builds character. But I would fight day and night, to heave-ho and catch up with him, the knight of the forest, my creator. Even as I splattered, coo-ed, flew, shed, pawed, shivered, wept, it seemed that   everyday my existence became better forgotten. I was confined to that moment, an animal without the luxury of any ingrained migration habit. Footprints would do me no good. Between who I’d birthed and who’d birthed me, these animals and I were strangers.

Bestomomentos

I had once slept the night in a cave, a feeble attempt to carry-away with my day. Crouched under swerving, rythmic waves of stowed-away rock, the hallowness whispered between my bones, awaiting its day, almost chewing my breath. Pinpointed by monolith, I almost had to apologize for my size. When I made sounds alone, each isolated, banal clicker or clamper escaped the confinement of mere occurence, instead transforming into a twisted plee for some kind of benign accompaniment, a clunky bandit refutating my proud solitude. I ought to say I dreamdt it into being, for only it could decipher the nuances of my vulgarities, my noises left unheard, for as I went truly wild, I imagined my perviewer. At times cooing would settle in; and then I understood  that a beast is born of every moment. They flee and linger in the forest, following us two-steps back on the trail, sleeping next to us, ready to pounce back, pin us down, roar and then let us remember how we’ve birthed, bred, and abandonned. So they and I swirm around nawing each other without word in a haphazard eco-system marked by calm waters.

Felrenask

The biological makeup of the Felrenask consists of defined structure pressured by an expansive force of ambiguity. Beneath these layers rests a core energy source, a heart for the animal that pumps the nearly blinding dilating glow of light at a continual pulse, but at different intensities. This inner energy source shines and reveals the rigid and straight bone structure that appears as a series of silhouettes through the Felrenask’s heavy and translucent multi-layered skin. Its many layers of skin cling and form around its free, and yet rigid physical structure to form ambiguous shapes that are further accentuated by the creature’s backlit pulse, the Felrenask’s tidal life. These three essential biological features unite seamlessly with precision.

The Felrenask remains atune to a most peculiar set of habits, a performance conditioned by its complex skeletal frame. The creature has a tendency to experience seizures in accordance with unknown astrological constellations. In these bouts of fever, the Felrenask will peel and scratch at its skin, until it’s just a skeleton. The creature will remain calm in its minimal skeletal state, but only momentairly; with such naked exposure to the cold, and ravaging chills, it will retreat back to its skin left on the ground. There it will roll and trample its skin with aggression, but its physical structure will remain intact. The creature yawns and calls often, for whom’s attention it yearns remains unknown. These sounds are best compared to hidden subtle beeping heard under the hums of electronics. Though the species rarely uses language to express itself, it can instead rely on physical gestures and movements. The Felrenask moves by gliding on its slippery feet, and anchored by luck, it restricts access free flow.

Further study must be done on the creature.