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Description
"We're aren't too different, you and I." Allowing the insect along to drift along each of her ink-soaked fingertips, the Beastress allowed a Cheshire smile to yank her features upwards, loosing a light chuckle as she watched it bob and weave carelessly. There was an air of innocence, of fairness and grace that trembled through each of their delicate legs, much more careful and considerate than the trudging, thumping clump of her hooves, clumsy and uneasy at best.

"Yet all the same, it must be nice to be as carefree and at ease as you, little one... but even so, you cannot fool me." Unfurling her mandibles, she yawned, turning her palm to allow the insect to rest in the center of it, and as she lowered her head to regard it at eye level, she blew at it a bit, watching as its antennae twitched with displeasure.

"I know what you do, I've SEEN what you've done. You, like me, have an insatiable hunger that can't easily be filled, no matter how delicate you present yourself to be," Shifting her weight, her eyes tracked its legs as they traversed the underside of her thumb and forefinger, antennae twirling and flinching at her as if nodding with each word she'd said,"...you will still devour, wholly and unjustly..." Pausing, she considered her words.

"Just like me...even if I'm a bit messier than when you do it... the result is the same." Standing now, she paced the creaky floors of her childhood home.

"Where you may drain the fragile flower of its nectar," Where her mouth had been closed, it unwound like the bud of a flower, mandibles and maw dripping with saliva,"...I drain the world of life."

And just like that, she ate the butterfly whole.

-----

In her youth, she was plagued, infected, with the precognition of death, able to see when and how creatures of every shape and size would die.

To this end, she has a strange, warped perception of life and death as a whole, and as such, often likens herself to the butterfly, simply doing as nature intended, that is, pushing to find the cause of her vision so many years ago. A vision of the very end of existence, this knowledge shared with just one other soul; Janus.

Through these visions and voices, she founded the Cult of Mortem, devout followers of their Nameless God that they wish to foster and bring forth, for them to then bring along the end of all life itself. She began this following in her late teens/early adulthood, shortly after fleeing from home and traveling the countryside of Equestria to spread her vision of an empty world, and to those desperate few it resonated with, she had gotten her first few followers. She promised a vision of tranquility and peace in the absence of beings such as them, that it was best that they all disappeared, that the world would be better off without them tainting it, and that the only true way to be free? Well, that was through the surrendering of their bodies, their minds, and their souls to death itself.

"Freedom through the Abyss" or "Libertas in abyssum irent", the capital virtue of Mortem, began to spread fast, not that the droning call of war helped, and with creatures of every shape and size low in spirits, it was the opportunity of a lifetime to spread the poisonous whispers of self-destruction. Young and old, everyone had heard of them, and the word resonated with many, especially those who had seen the war firsthand, and even the more skeptical amongst the population began to fall into ease and brevity of their message.

It had even captured the attention the Kingdom's rulers and protectors, signaling that it was time for them to place Omen under a tighter lock and key, and that they did, with the Beastress retreating underground for weeks or even months at a time as others in her ilk spread the message wide and clear, and all the while she looked for leads, clues, anything that would put them on the right track of their ultimate goal: finding their God.

Description
"We're aren't too different, you and I." Allowing the insect along to drift along each of her ink-soaked fingertips, the Beastress allowed a Cheshire smile to yank her features upwards, loosing a light chuckle as she watched it bob and weave carelessly. There was an air of innocence, of fairness and grace that trembled through each of their delicate legs, much more careful and considerate than the trudging, thumping clump of her hooves, clumsy and uneasy at best.

"Yet all the same, it must be nice to be as carefree and at ease as you, little one... but even so, you cannot fool me." Unfurling her mandibles, she yawned, turning her palm to allow the insect to rest in the center of it, and as she lowered her head to regard it at eye level, she blew at it a bit, watching as its antennae twitched with displeasure.

"I know what you do, I've SEEN what you've done. You, like me, have an insatiable hunger that can't easily be filled, no matter how delicate you present yourself to be," Shifting her weight, her eyes tracked its legs as they traversed the underside of her thumb and forefinger, antennae twirling and flinching at her as if nodding with each word she'd said,"...you will still devour, wholly and unjustly..." Pausing, she considered her words.

"Just like me...even if I'm a bit messier than when you do it... the result is the same." Standing now, she paced the creaky floors of her childhood home.

"Where you may drain the fragile flower of its nectar," Where her mouth had been closed, it unwound like the bud of a flower, mandibles and maw dripping with saliva,"...I drain the world of life."

And just like that, she ate the butterfly whole.

-----

In her youth, she was plagued, infected, with the precognition of death, able to see when and how creatures of every shape and size would die.

To this end, she has a strange, warped perception of life and death as a whole, and as such, often likens herself to the butterfly, simply doing as nature intended, that is, pushing to find the cause of her vision so many years ago. A vision of the very end of existence, this knowledge shared with just one other soul; Janus.

Through these visions and voices, she founded the Cult of Mortem, devout followers of their Nameless God that they wish to foster and bring forth, for them to then bring along the end of all life itself. She began this following in her late teens/early adulthood, shortly after fleeing from home and traveling the countryside of Equestria to spread her vision of an empty world, and to those desperate few it resonated with, she had gotten her first few followers. She promised a vision of tranquility and peace in the absence of beings such as them, that it was best that they all disappeared, that the world would be better off without them tainting it, and that the only true way to be free? Well, that was through the surrendering of their bodies, their minds, and their souls to death itself.

"Freedom through the Abyss" or "Libertas in abyssum irent", the capital virtue of Mortem, began to spread fast, not that the droning call of war helped, and with creatures of every shape and size low in spirits, it was the opportunity of a lifetime to spread the poisonous whispers of self-destruction. Young and old, everyone had heard of them, and the word resonated with many, especially those who had seen the war firsthand, and even the more skeptical amongst the population began to fall into ease and brevity of their message.

It had even captured the attention the Kingdom's rulers and protectors, signaling that it was time for them to place Omen under a tighter lock and key, and that they did, with the Beastress retreating underground for weeks or even months at a time as others in her ilk spread the message wide and clear, and all the while she looked for leads, clues, anything that would put them on the right track of their ultimate goal: finding their God.