bright like the stars in the midnight sky and warm like the sun itself, the ascension of one from angelic origins gracefully lands on the cool soil below, a fluffy mass of neat and pure white feathers latched onto the figure sculpted from ivory and gold marble that glowed with ethereal beauty. hardened look that of a seasoned warrior, old pale battle scars strewn haphazardly across sharp features, liquid gold optics scanned the dense trees of the shadow veil's territory, scarce beams of the dying light of the sun as it goes down for the night, not caring if they happened to be a beacon of light for the soon to be darkness. the scuttling of critters were blocked as senses stretch out, searching for something–someone–in particular, but it seems the individual isn't here. lips curl downwards in a slight frown, displeasure pouring off of the archangel whilst standing in silence before turning their head to look back, triangular ears swiveling in the same direction, seemingly listening to a voice off in the distance and eventually looking forward one again. shoulders rolled themselves and wings lift towards the sky, vanishing in a blink of an eye, the heat radiating off of the oriental shorthair disappearing with the feathery appendages, but the soft glow is still there.
paws twitch and begin to move the body containing jeolmang, fluid with each step and never missing a beat, leaving a trail of vibrant pink orchids in their wake. a neutral–almost bored–expression held up whilst a fire burned inside. underlying fury at the words of how others hurt his children and the suffering of someone he once held dear– no still holds dear. but it's the way of life, is it not? at all shall suffer the hell of living until death comes to reap your soul, but death isn't permanent for all. no, the being of light knows all to well that the cycle of life and death is messed up to the point of some never truly dying. the curse of being brought back to life with vague or no memories of the past. an endless loop. one they happen to be caught in and it's no fun, except they remember it all. the deaths. the pain. the agony. terror and horror. now it's becoming old and tiresome. it chips away at jeolmang bit by bit, slowly starting to view all life as he once did before: pathetic and useless. these physical bodies are weak. no matter how much one trains and grows the only thing that will stay is the soul, and it didn't contain a physical form. these bodies are so... fragile. delicate. push too hard and bones break. pull too hard and flesh rips. though, they aren't here to say all life should be wiped out and all of the shit others like to pull for the 'greater good'. there is no greater good. move on and live or resist too much and perish. no pretty outcomes. not in the game of life.
the quiet hum vibrates in the angelic being's chest, eyes hooded after arriving at the border, tail twitching behind them and lifts their muzzle up. no audible words are spoken, but boomed out through a telepathic message. greetings members of shadow veil. my name is jeolmang and i am here to stay for a bit. in the being's eyes there is no need to request to join. it's not like they'd hold loyalty to the clan itself. no. only those who earned shall receive. not to mention they have no desire to stay in a place for too long. perhaps if solsticeclan was still here then j would have made a permanent home there. unfortunately, it's been swept away in time with little others to remember the place.