Azuhel x crow fam prp
Deadline: November 4th

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What is joy?

Is it the incredible tingle that curls through your belly? The bubbling urge to laugh, sending sounds spiraling upward toward a star dotted sky? Was it that restless feeling? The need to move and dance, to leap through fields of green and howl? Was it explosive? All consuming? The sort of emotional sensation to blast one into oblivion and thoughtless action? Or could it be quieter, a mild contemplative sense of contentment and perfection?

What did it matter, in the end, so long as one was having fun? So long as they felt complete in a way that could barely be described?

Azuhel was not complete but she was joyous, filled with a manic sort of energy that had her hustling her younger children out of the cathedral (under the watchful eye of Umbra or any wayward husbands about) and giving a haunting howl to her much older ones.

come to me, children, mommy has a need for you

And once they arrived—and they best arrive, for certain—she’d usher them within to introduce them to their father.

Crow, who had yet to be given his gifts of gratitude.

“Loves,” Azuhel drawled, her steps light—nearly bouncy—as she stalked a tight circle around a bound wolf of muck and grim. He was balanced on the edge of the pit, that place they had gathered so many moons ago to speak bluntly over Gideon’s little naïve head.

Now, they would show what they’ve learned to another.

“You know what to do.” She huffed, her gaze narrowed upon their brood, “Show your father what you’ve learned.”

Utilize the tools of your birthright, the crackling flame, the torches, and the coal resting ever so innocently at the bottom of that pit.

“He’s hungry, I’m sure. Blood for the blood gods, ‘n all that.”