Maulise

Low, agonizing cries tore between the trees, sharp and short. A losing battle.  Labored grunts. Sounds of snow, scattered by wary, tired paws. The reek of blood…. corruption. Why, why, why, WHY! CURSES! Here I am, running like a moronic pup that has been scolded by its mother! I should be there, protecting and dying with my pack! Damn you, Shenha, why did you order me to run? I… I…. I…. Everything was so perfect just yesterday. SHENHA, YOU OLD FART! Why did you die to save me? WHY? …….. Oh, Hlavin! Narvin behou vernahra du , Dervi meru feranru. Menhari torni dre Vernae derbi fertre... The silver

A look into the world of Nil Art. Music. Literature. The various forms of creative expression and the internet are what liberate me nowadays. Growing up, I imagine, people found me a strange child, and, in all honesty, I wouldn't blame that opinion. When I was younger, I never really found that much joy with ‘typical’ activities. I’d love to just curl up in a nest I wove out of reeds, softened by a bed of feathers fixated by dry moss. Settling in that expanse of seemingly infinite softness and comfort, I curled my long, furred tail around myself with a soft murr of relaxation before sinking into and exploring my own reality