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He was a bit thin for a 3 month old puppy.
It was the illusive Cotards Syndrome. His conscious occasionally yet memorably questioning his eating habits in the form of, "You aren't alive; why bother?" Sometimes, the thought process startled him a bit...
He was willing to play games of the higher powers, but being Honeypup, he wanted to be a lasting contender. One for the records! He'd drag this game out, and by doing that, he was required to eat.
He looked immaculate, being drenched in a glossy coat of classic, regal, untarnished ivory whilst being splashed with an aura of pristine inner power radiating brilliantly from two almond-shaped, hyperborean ice rinks. The gelid husky stood tall for a child, being bestowed with a gargantuan structure since he emerged from his mother's womb. The bludgeoned woman burned herself with the flame of Cotards right down to the wire until there was no more 'life' left within her to debate with others about. She never had friends, not that Honeypup was aware of. He had never felt sad during her departure, for there was nothing to be sad about! She was dead from the start, right? Honeypup was never all too sure, an and never chose to linger on the subject, for the currently weak presence of the syndrome itself hurt his brain when he thought too much about the topic of what was living and what wasn't.
For some reason, he knew to stop at the border.
Why? Even the mental mindfxck of a kid does not exactly know how to assemble an answer to such a question through dialog. Honeypup is still utterly oblivious to the faint presence of a timeless soul who was older than some of the present clans themselves. He is also completely blind to the concept that this soul is in fact the source of the slice of ancient intelligence he was gifted with at birth. If he knew this was the case, only the higher powers know that he would be ecstatic about being merged with one of such seasoned knowledge and experience, for he himself is an open-mindedly blessed lover of intellect. The simple notion of being able to learn each day about all kinds of things was so fascinating! It captivated him like water - he is also extremely fascinated with water. How it's classic ripples fragment a reflection with a single touch. You can break water like you can break people; with ease.
Oh yes, he also had a giant, 3-inch long nail resting between his front paws - just incase he ever needed to prove a point one day...
"Hello? Is anyone out there?" The adolescent male canine would howl out to the illumination of daylight streaming from the sky down onto The Rift's territory before him. The child wanted to bound into the vast terrain, to wallow in it's unfamiliarity, to squirm into uncharted hiding places! Yet, the obedience keeping his wiry, underdeveloped build hunkered down to a state of stillness that had proven to be just as bold. He made a deal with himself; he would wait for a 'staggeringly long' amount of time (probably twenty minutes or so) and then conceal his scent with mint, which he would go through the trouble of finding, only to turn back to this unexplored region to look around with an identity that is undetectable to the nose. Although he is curious, this does not mean that Honeypup is at all negligent. "I'm looking for someplace to stay... Perhaps a permanent place to stay, even?" It was apparent that he was, however, also not aware of what a 'clan' was, and therefor would need to be walked through the works of The Rift. If one would forget to leave out clarification, Honeypup would be willing to inquire about it. He was not ashamed of his naivety.
[/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; font-family:arial; font-size:16pt;letter-spacing:-2px;text-shadow: 0px; 2px #090b05;][b][i]PILLAGE, TORTURE, MENTALLY SLAUGHTER[/fancypost][/fancypost]
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width:420px; font-family: helvetica; font-size:9px; text-align: right;]love cal[/fancypost]
