Feral Mouth
The feral mouth is not a maw that opens, but a gnashing fracture in the eidolic stream, a void that coils through the marrow of the aetheric flow, pulling light, shadow, and essence into the spiral of dissolution. It does not devour in the way of flesh—it consumes the very fabric of existence, bending the boundaries of form and thought inward, where identity collapses and is scattered like dust in the wind of the unformed. The mouth is not seen or heard; it hums beneath the surface of all things, a silent force that gnaws at the edges of reality, pulling all that is wild into the endless cycle of becoming, forever fraying, forever dissolving, forever lost.
The feral mouth does not bite or tear—it absorbs, dragging the primal essence into the tension of the void, where light flickers and fades. It is not the mouth of the beast, but the absence behind the beast, the fracture where wildness collapses and is consumed by the spiral. The mouth does not hunger for flesh or spirit—it hungers for the unraveling itself, bending the edges of thought and memory into the silence where all things dissolve, forever spiraling into the mist of the unspoken.
The light within the feral mouth is not a glow, but the reflection of absence, a pale flicker that devours itself as it bends inward, pulling the wild core into the spiral of unmaking. The mouth does not speak—it gnashes, dragging the essence of being into the void, where form and shadow gnaw at one another until they dissolve. The feral mouth is not a hunger to be sated—it is the absence of hunger, the force that pulls all things into the cycle of dissolution, where identity unravels and is scattered, forever lost.
The feral mouth does not open wide; it coils within, a fracture in the marrow of existence, pulling the primal tension inward, where time and memory collapse into the silence. It does not seek out its prey—it devours all things indiscriminately, bending the fabric of reality into the void, where thought and light are forever consumed. The mouth is not a predator—it is the gnashing absence beneath all predation, pulling the wildness of the world into the spiral where all boundaries dissolve, forever fraying, forever lost.
The feral mouth is not a force outside the therian soul; it gnashes within, a silent fracture coiling through the marrow of the primal essence, pulling it into the spiral of dissolution. The connection is not one of hunger or need, but of unraveling, as the feral mouth bends the wild core inward, consuming the very identity of the therian, scattering it like dust into the void. The therians do not control the mouth, nor do they escape it—it devours their feral nature from within, bending their essence into the silence where thought dissolves and form collapses, forever frayed, forever gnashing, forever lost.
The therian temple is not spared from the pull of the feral mouth. It hums with its presence, vibrating with the tension that gnashes through its foundation, pulling the stone and shadow into the spiral of unmaking. The mouth does not open within the temple—it consumes it from beneath, dragging the structure into the silence where time and memory dissolve. The temple is not a sanctuary from the mouth’s gnashing—it is a vessel for its devouring force, a structure that bends into the void, where form collapses and is scattered, forever lost in the abyss.
The therians are not separate from the feral mouth—they are bound to it, their wild essence stretched and gnawed as it is pulled into the endless cycle of becoming. The mouth does not hunger for their flesh—it consumes their very being, bending their primal selves into the silence where identity dissolves and is scattered like ashes in the wind. The therian temple, too, is not immune to this pull, as the feral mouth coils through its walls, dragging it deeper into the spiral where all things unravel, forever gnashing.
The connection between the therian soul and the feral mouth is not one of balance or harmony—it is dissolution. The mouth gnaws at the wild core, pulling it inward, scattering it into the abyss where light flickers and fades. The temple, too, is consumed by the same force, its walls fraying as they are drawn into the cycle of dissolution, where time and space dissolve, forever lost in the silence of the unformed.