The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

Dawn's first kiss befell the forest clearing as the sun peeked through the austere tree branches, the deep shade of carob brown continuing it's painfully slow descend into a sickening coal black as the circling decay that'd recently laced itself into the once thriving life poisoned all it latched on to, stealing the life essence like a greedy, blood-thirsting leech. But it infected more than just the trees . . . It was in every blade of grass, every whithering leaf that aimlessly held on to it's mother-branch or lay helpless on the ground, pushed and nudged by the frost edged wind. Every flower, bush and shrub succumbing to this unforeseen sickness.

Whatever had breached their systems was unknown to the Vixen who'd simply observed the phenomenon as it occurred, watched it progressively worsen day by day, hour by hour . . . every second was being tainted by Death. The only patience she'd witnessed here was the rate at which everything was dying, taking it's sweet time as if it were unaware of the torturous suffering nature was enduring here.



Death was turning this place into a graveyard.

Not even the kiss of dawn's waking hour could lift some of the pain, sadly.



Yet on this morning, there was only one difference to the terrain as the Kitsune's golden orbs gazed outside from the doorway of her humble hut, updating what she knew of the inevitable.

However, the inky darkness that'd accompanied Death's decay had been dusted in a pure, brilliant white. It was like a thick yet visually soft blanket spread over the sick and dying, it was a sight that personally brought a sense of compassion to the silent Kitsune.

Bare foot, she brushed aside the worn red cloth that served as a meek wall between herself and the elements, placing a pale, porcelain foot upon the chilling snow and quietly gazing at it as the snow's delicate surface sunk under the lightly applied weight, small bundles of flakes slipping between her toes as she wiggled them in awe. The cold seemed to be an oblivious sensation to her as she immersed herself in her curiosity, her calmly veiled fascination all to be accounted for in the swirling depths of her glistening eyes while she finally brought her other foot forward and buried it in the white powder. The vixen was finally out of her hut and amongst the brilliant change of scenery, every exhale hung in the air as a white rag before dispersing into a faint nothingness. Her gaze having been so downcast for so long, her attention was only reobtained as a small crystalline snowflake fell from above and perched upon the end of her nose, melting away a few seconds later.

That's when the Kitsune looked up and saw the true beauty of nature in such a frost bitten environment. Millions of slowly falling snowflakes cascaded to the ground in gentle intricate dances, perching upon the red and black weaves of her thigh length hair, the light wind causing many thin strands to sway to the side in a waving ripple of silken ribbon.



Amongst the eye blurring flurry of snowfall, the Fox Youkai was a ghost . . . an apparition, a spectre in Death's domain.

Yet, her heart continued to beat, her lungs continued to expand and contract, her brain continued to pass messages all around her body.

Surrounded by Death, she was still just outside of it's grasp.

And even so . . . with the ugliness of such a fate buried, the beauty of it reigned victorious and true . . .

Causing even the most cynical of hearts to stop . . .



And admire.

It was colder amongst the corpses of withering trees and foliage, one meer brush of a finger or a frost-bitten kiss from a breeze could scatter the flaking skin of a leaf upon the wind and dirt underfoot. It was a sad sight, or atleast, to those who didn't fully understand the cycle of Life, Death and Rebirth.

To the prowling Kitsune, it was common knowledge.

Stamped, burnt, etched, imprinted into her mind, never to be forgotten as time stalked her nature defying soul, patiently waiting for the opportunity to set the cycle right.

This was of no concern to her, however.

Like a newly placed piece of furniture, one gets use to it's presence until it eventually becomes one with the background. This is how the Fox Youkai processed and accepted her impending future that stalked her at every waking hour. Surfacing from the abysmal depths of her thoughts, her pale, dainty fingers were hovering over a withered brown leaf, the tip of her long, needle point nails barely touching the vien laced surface.



( …One meer brush of a finger… could scatter the flaking skin of a leaf… )



She pulled her hand away and slowly let it resume it's neutral place at her side, her golden orbed gaze averting to the small, humble hut a short distance away, set near the edge of the forest clearing while partially concealed too. Though to any other creature than the Kitsune, there would be no hut at all, an inset illusion carved into the wooden panel walls. The Kitsune's home was a personal sanctuary, devoid of fear or worry yet here it was; the stage of Death right on her doorstep. It was unsettling to have such a close proximity with this decay, yet nothing could be done about it.

She had to just let it happen.

The quiet yet sharp drumming of long fingernails upon wood echoed across the open scene, bright yellow orbs gazing at every moving thing with sharp, slit pupil glances.

A soft glow emanated from those vibrant orbs, however, eerie yet enticing. To lock one's gaze with these Kitsune eyes would ensure a quick trance to fall upon the unfortunate individual, veiling all sense of self-awareness.

Trapping them in a haze of uncertainty and confusion.

Until, they are released.

It wasn't an intentional display of power, though. The owner of such an otherworldly gaze had no interest in exerting her Illusions upon the stray, and the weak. It required effort she did not wish to waste, or even use at all, for that matter.

Pale red lips, full and glossy in the natural light, were sealed together as a light and hardly detectable pout rest upon the delicately soft feature, no display of any obvious emotion upon her face at all.

It was as if there was an invisible, blank mask hiding any form of expression from wandering eyes. Obviously, the only mask she usually adorned rest upon her head in a diagonal alignment, up and out of her face, yet easily accessable if needed.

The white and red streaks upon such an accessory were only that of a fox, mischief and mystery hinted at the upturned, feline smile.

" . . . This silence . . . "

Upon the small wooden table, that she had settled herself at, was a small green cup. A light wisp of steam drifted from the top as an amber liquid sat cooling inside. It'd been made minutes before, yet not a single sip had been taken . . . Perhaps, it was too hot to drink.

Maybe it was to be forgotten and left to cool completely.

Or the Kitsune that had made such a sweet, aromatic beverage was simply too lost in her thoughts.

" . . . Is too familiar. "