ཐི˖ ࣪ The Whisper 𖥔 ݁ Ingólfr ࣪ ˖ཋྀ

Tilting his body to the side, Ingólfr stretched his wings out fully and let the air glide under them. The skies were their perfect baby blue and gold hued clouds looked more inviting than ever. His body rippled through the air and every so often he'd into dip a cloud to disperse it and watch as it wafts into more tiny pieces. He chuckled, the golden specs tickling alongside his body and sliding through the vapor spots.

Every morning and afternoon Ingólfr take to the skies after his scheduled training. Today however, he felt restless and no matter what fighting he did to his imaginative enemy could not get rid of the pesky feeling. His face scrunched up as he thought more of the unknown pull, he followed. Of course, he's heard of the whispers through the realm of those of, The Weaver. But something in his gut was hesitant. This wasn't like the admiring and true blood of a faithful, it seemed transcendent. Displeasing.

Riding himself of the ever-consuming thoughts that raced in his head and raised his wings and prepared for landing, his legs haunching to help stabilize. A grunt escaped past his snout as he did a poor excuse of a landing. Ingólfr may be the self-titled greatest fighter, but he still has some things to learn. His claws scaped in the fair grass and Ingólfr winced hoping no one saw.

Flapping his wings once, he folded them in and took a look around. His ears flicked, hearing the pull he followed still demanded for him to move but upon seeing he was in the ever-peaceful world of Eaden, the massive garden, he tensed up some more. Ingólfr agreed a long time ago that he wouldn't set claw here again because he accidently messed up an Elysiphim's private garden when he was an adolescent. Closing his eyes, he tilted his head up and sent up a quick prayer, hoping said phim wouldn't be here to kick him out.

Opening his eyes he turned his head the direction the persistent feeling beckoned. As he walked by many verities of flowers and plants, he soon found himself in a great fruit tree dell. Many of the trees stood taller than even the biggest of phims and some stood as saplings, still new to the world.

Smiling a bit at the signs of life, Ingólfr padded through until he reached a hill. Gazing in skeptical wonder, he climbed the hill, his claws digging in to help. Reaching the top, he stops dead in his tracks. The persistent feeling from before calmed at the sight. It no longer pulling harshly as it slowly disappeared.

A grand tree painted in gold sits in the middle of the healthiest grass, seemingly reaching far past the skies of Elysium. His eyes, snout and wings were wide open in shocked awe. His body tense and breathing shallow but silent. Just under the massive shade of the tree, there high in between the plated gold leaves were the brightest gold colored fruit he has ever seen. Something buried deep inside of him called to grab one or maybe a few. His fangs glistened and mouth watered at the thought of biting into them.

A shift in the air had him snapping out of his daydream. A creature of unknown decent crawled out of the leaves, it's forked tongue flicking. Its body chalked with multitude of scales and an abundance of reds. The dark slanted eyes gaze at Ingólfr in bland interest. "You followed?" Its voice slithered through the air and over Ingólfr's body. In response, he shivered and moved from leg to leg in nervousness. "Most would think the Faithful do not follow blind calls," It paused, and its maw cracked open in a devilish smile, "well, then again." A scaled paw lifted and gestured in Ingólfr's direction.

Ingólfr blinked and took stock of what the unknown creature has stated. A frown marked his snout. Faithful. Follow blind. He gasped, "That is Erroneous! You are mistaken that many of us Faithful follow so," he struggled to find the words without using what the creature used. "Uncomprehending of the Deity!" His eyes squinted as he slashed a claw into the ground. His wings flexing as to take flight right then and there towards it.

The creature laughed loud, its voice grinding on Ingólfr's nerves. "Then why are you here child?" It crawled down its branch closer to Ingólfr. "You followed a song of unseeing ardent faith, a whisper of nothing, and yet you have the uncouth nerve to tell me I'm wrong?" Its eyes hardened before they smiled in mirth. It crawled even closer and tapped one of the many gold ladened apples making it sway.

Ingólfr's eyes tracked the apple in spite of his face not moving from looking in blatant disbelief at the creature. With his wings still hunched up, he just knows he makes an ill-favored sight. His body trembled. Be that of unsightly want to launch at the apple or to fight the creature of its repulsive words.

"Your Weaver spins its webs, and many get caught but did you know? The silk and all that are perfect are lies." Its body vibrates with gravelly haunting chuckles.

Ingólfr takes a step back, his head shaking in incredulity. "No, no. That can't be! The Weaver could never lie!"

"It can, It does, It will,” it hummed, tapping a claw against the apple again, "Unlike others, you have a chance to see the Truth." Ingólfr watches as the apple drops from the branch and without thinking, he catches it. His paws hold the apple gently. The gold glistened and his mouth watered feverously. "Eat and you shall know everything. But be warned, everything will change in response." It paused before slipping back into the leaves, "The choice is yours."

Ingólfr gulped and thought of what the creature spun. He knows he's confident that it spoke unspeakable lies and was trying to get him to break but on the other hand, something deep inside of him urges to see what happens. That it could lead to greatness for himself and what is he but a slave to his own ideals? He may be one of the Faithful, but has it done anything to prove to him that The Weaver is the ultimate mighty? That it is All and Everything? After every prayer, why does he hold on so close when his heart acnes of disappointment when there is no answer? Why does he go day to day with the heaviness of his heart that it should be better but he's so damn afraid to break what is so normal to him? His eyes leak with tears, completely heartbroken but angered.

In a fit of rage, he grips the apple, claws digging in and making it disclose glyss juices. Bringing it up to his snout, he opens his mouth wide with a snarl and bites deep into the apple.