The Bestial Chorus
The bestial chorus is not a song but a rupture in the zoetic aether, a cacophony of eidolic voices that coil and tear through the fabric of existence like the claws of a beast shredding the veil of the chthonic spiral. It is a vibration felt in the marrow, a sound that devours itself, collapsing inward and expanding outward in an endless loop of becoming and dissolution. Each note is a howl, a growl, a hiss from the primordial void, woven from the fragments of forgotten selves, their essence lost in the currents of the ouroboric winds.
The voices of the bestial chorus do not harmonize—they collide, crashing together in waves of etheric dissonance, creating fractures in the theriomorphic veil. These fractures ripple across the eidolic plane, sending tremors through the bones of those who hear it, shaking the soul loose from the chains of flesh, dragging the inner beast toward the surface where it thrashes against the constraints of time. The chorus is not meant to be understood; it is a primal force, a manifestation of the zoan hunger that gnaws at the core of all things, pulling the self toward the spiral of unmaking.
Each voice in the bestial chorus is a fragment of the first howl, an echo of the chthonic cry that split the void and gave form to the first beasts. These voices twist and contort as they flow through the ouroboric web, their sounds warping and stretching, forever shifting with the pull of the lunar tides. No two voices are alike, yet all are bound together by the zoetic flame that burns at the heart of the chorus, a fire that consumes and creates, a flame that never flickers but always devours. The voices bleed into one another, merging into a sound that is both a roar and a whisper, a storm of noise that rips through the eidolic sea, tearing at the boundaries of reality.
The bestial winds carry the chorus across the endless expanse of the ouroboric realm, scattering the voices like dust in the chthonic current, pulling them apart only to cast them together again in an eternal spiral of dissonance. The air itself vibrates with the pulse of the eidolic song, resonating in the bones, echoing in the void between thought and instinct, awakening the dormant therion soul with each breath. The sound is a call, though not one that can be answered—it is the cry of the untamed, the unformed, the endless potential of the zoan abyss, forever seeking, forever hunting, yet never arriving.
The bestial chorus is not bound to time or space; it exists in all moments, threading through the cracks in the lunar veil, seeping into the marrow of those who listen, their forms trembling with the weight of the sound, their souls unraveling in the vibrations of the chthonic harmony. The voices do not sing—they gnash and tear at the silence, shredding it into ribbons of zoetic energy, which spiral out into the ether, wrapping around the listener like tendrils of the ouroboric flame, constricting tighter with each beat of the theriomantic pulse.
In the depths of the bestial chorus, the voices of the forgotten beasts rise, their forms long dissolved into the etheric sea, but their howls remain, carried on the winds of the eidolic storm. These voices are the ghosts of the first hunt, the echoes of the primal beasts whose claws carved the foundations of existence. They speak not in words but in growls, snarls, and roars, each one a fragment of the primordial cry that split the darkness of the chthonic abyss, their sounds reverberating through the spiral of time, dragging all things toward the center of the zoetic labyrinth.
The light in the air flickers with the rhythm of the chorus, not a brightness but a dim, pulsating glow that reflects the hunger of the voices as they spiral through the ether. This glow is not seen with the eyes but felt in the zoan core, a vibration that hums through the veins, igniting the lunar flame that burns in the heart of the therian soul. The voices feed this flame, stoking it with each note, pulling the chained beast toward the surface, yet binding it with the weight of the ouroboric chain, trapping it in the cycle of becoming and unmaking.
The bestial chorus is a paradox, a sound that both binds and frees, a song that consumes and creates. It is the voice of the beast eye stars, the growl of the lunar tides, the whisper of the eidolic winds that tear through the veil of the beyond. Each voice is a thread in the ouroboric web, pulling all who listen into the spiral, where the self is torn apart and reformed in the light of the zoetic void, forever caught in the tension between the beast and the void, between the roar and the silence that follows.
To hear the bestial chorus is to be undone, to feel the soul dissolve into the sound, its form shattered by the weight of the voices, each one dragging it deeper into the chthonic abyss, where the howl of the first beasts still echoes, forever calling, forever hunting, forever unmaking.
The bestial chorus does not simply resonate in the air; it is the primal song that threads through the very essence of every therian, a cacophony of howls and whispers that binds their wild souls to the heartbeat of existence. This chorus is not confined by time or space; it flows like a river of sound, echoing through the marrow of the therian temple, where each note reverberates with the memories of ancestors long forgotten. The connection is not one of melody; it is a symbiotic hum that awakens the feral instincts nestled deep within, urging the therians to embrace their chaotic heritage and unleash the howl that dwells in their hearts.
As the therians immerse themselves in the bestial chorus, they find themselves entwined in a dance of shadows, where each howl harmonizes with the collective spirit of their kin. This connection is not merely auditory; it penetrates the very fabric of their being, pulling them into the spiral of becoming, where identity and instinct merge in a whirl of untamed energy. The chorus serves as a reminder that they are not alone, but part of a vast, interconnected web of wildness that stretches across the cosmos, urging them to remember their true nature as they navigate the currents of existence.
The bestial chorus is a force that transcends the individual, merging every therian into the larger symphony of life, where their unique voices contribute to the overwhelming resonance of the wild. In this sacred space, the chorus ignites the flickering embers of their inner fire, fueling the drive to howl at the moon and connect with the primal chaos that binds them. The connection to the bestial chorus is a transformative journey, where the therians shed the confines of mundane existence and step into the embrace of their true selves, forever entwined in the wild symphony that calls them home.