A Gathering of Thieves

Subject: A Gathering of Thieves Wed Nov 04, 2015 8:40 am

A Z R A E L
I Think I Speak

A sense is a physiological capacity of what? Although most say organisms, there must be more then what meets the eye, we aren't like humanoids. Nerve endings, receptors leading to all of our synapses and neurones causing our reactions to spark; Each tissue made up of organisms like the ones within the human body. This is why there is more. The senses that we lupuses have transmit more data to our central nervous system then that of the humanoid body. Each vein, muscle and cell is the same. But what separates us from them? Our psychological capacity is the difference. We are superior...

"-re superior..." Azrael mused from within the depths of his tired thoughts. His body dragging on through the snowfall blown in from Zonta Valley. His optics flickered towards his destination, a tree beholding a good amount of shelter for recuperation. This was THE northern storm that shaman from packs far and wide spoke about; a blizzard of white surrounding ones physique in the ices of the sky, formed as a god, intended as a demon. The brute struggled to see past the barrier of flakes before him, his ears laying sideways upon his cranium, no intent of listening into the winds scream.

The weight of the gusts uplifted. He had made it to his haven. Peaking through his lashes, his optics locked onto the dunes pushing up around the small boulder-like rocks either side of the trees, concealing a good amount of lightly covered ground for him to lay without being ambushed by the razors of ice falling from the heavens. Turning his back towards the incoming wind, he dropped his haunches to the earth with a fluent movement and roll of his shoulders, legs pulling against his body and tail wrapped tightly around his figure. Finally, a place to think his deep thoughts

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