The bedlamite had established himself a mission. Disheveled and dismayed he crept like a rabid and forlorn feline through the oaks that enclosed the Foothills. The foliage thrust at his azure pelt, ravenous for his blood. Vermillion chasms darted around frantically, a side effect of the behemoth becoming ever more paranoid over the preceding months. Murder was convinced this province was out to destroy him, though he would not give it the pleasure…not yet at least. It had taken him days to reach the twin sisters’ queendom, an excursion that would have taken an ordinary denizen of Helovia merely hours from the Deep Forest from whence he came. However it was innocuous to say that Murder was far from ordinary anymore. He had left Ophelia in the forest what seemed like a decade ago, her final query during their meager encounter still occupying his wild ponderings. Where will you go now? He had not answered her, for he did not have an answer and Murder wasn’t one to speak unnecessary words. Murder had taken his leave then, back to his secluded existence, but the answer to her question had come to him a short period later. Nowhere child, for a creature whom has lost himself never truly has a destination.

Murder’s audits reposed back against his crania at this thought. It felt as if he had been in a stupor for the prior half of the earth’s rotation without his stygian cohorts. Whole days would pass and Murder could not recall what he had done for their entirety. He had misplaced his mind, this was for certain, though if he would ever find it again was a genuine enigma. Even if his brethren were returned to him would he be equivalent to his former self? No…most definitely not. Gradually Murder brought his gait to cessation; his unsettling rubicund orbs explored the façade of the mountains all the way to their veiled crests. One thing Murder hadn’t forgotten in this odious world was its hidden beauty and magnificence, of which he was tremendously grateful for.

A breeze pirouetted over Murder’s cerulean frame conveying a minor chill to ascend his vertebrae and gather up his cobalt dreads in its grasp, making them sway along with the zephyr. The sensations of his tendrils brushing against his hide triggered Murder’s muscles to spasm and bring him out of the daze he had fallen into as he gazed at the immense cliffs. Tossing his dome Murder released a grunt before watching a few autumn leaves as they glided from their mother tree to rot in the soil. They reminded him of exiled seraphs cast out of paradise to suffer and parish amongst the inferior organisms. Their fates were set in stone. Murder’s lids closed over red pits for a moment, his auricles erected once more keeping vigilant, as he inhaled the frosty orangemoon air. Murder did not know why he was here but he wasn’t about to sojourn at the Foothill’s perimeter like a timorous colt. He was no craven. Mutely he raised his skull towards the progressively dimming firmament and opened his eyes. Abruptly Murder lifted his anterior pistons from the terrain and, pushing off with his sturdy hind limbs, propelled himself into a velocious gallop within the herd land. Who Murder would happenstance upon and what would become of him he did not know, all Murder discerned was he couldn’t wallow any longer. Not only that but he had overheard whispers that a demi-god had been born of late. The offspring of his nemesis, the Time God’s brat, and she resided here…

{ ooc: Open to anyone. This is Murder's "capture" thread but technically right now he is just trespassing. }