Long ago, in earliest written tailed history, lived 9 clans - each one claiming that its god was the true one. These clans fought for generations. In the eyes of those who lived in these foul times, the war simply would never end.

That is until a tailless tailed, known as a notail (but of course, not the ones you know of) spoke with all nine clans. Gaining a tail with each they spoke to.

The tailed did not occupy their solar system with just themselves.

Just the next planet over were the cth'leans. A species that, foolishly, held joy in the gods as the tailed did. Though they would never meet on a large scale, the tailed and cth'leans communicated through anomalous means.

There was also one more. One....not as well known, but closer to home. Great shelled creatures that controlled the dreams of those around them.....

But... Let us just say that is a story for another day.

All you need to know is that they became so disgusted by the gods and the tailed, that they chose to challenge the gods for their freedom instead of continue the madness of it all.

Before I continue, let me make known a few simple facts.

The tailed had no such concept of gender, instead they called each other by their gods. A Helper tailed may be called "the lamb follower" or the "deerly beloved." Titles, too many titles. They are all dead, so I will call them all by whatever I want. If they want to grow with anger, they may rise from the their holy lands to challenge my words themselves.

Secondly, the tailed named in simple ways. When someone new was discovered, the tailed nearby would say one word, and that would become the place or thing's name. This is why tailed children are called "Abyss Horse" or "Long Fur." It is simply what both parents thought at the time.

This rabbit would follow the tailed loyally. When the time came that a tailed needed to make a wish to the gods more dearly than any other....

These loyal companions would be skinned and killed. Betrayed by the ones they loved! And even then, sometimes they would rise up, hopping along with their owner, forgiving their sins no matter what.

The first god was the Helper, known as the sheep or deer.

Tailed under this god were to be humble, and follow all others. They were not to think of themselves, but throw themselves forward in assistance of those around them.

What a terrible life to be born into. They should have just called them servants. Sure, many were akin to therapists and managers, but don't be fooled. The other tailed mock these Helper followers, why, there was only one god sign they mocked more.

The Helper tailed dressed plainly, as to not "upstage" those more important than them. Attitudes, even those justified, were considered "ugly."

The second god was the Sleeper, known as the lizard, or dragon of the land.

Tailed under this sign lived spoiled lives. Indulgence was all they knew. They dressed in the finest clothes, or exposed the tops of their body as symbols of their power. The bigger they were, the more power they held, and thus the more luck they could bring into the home.

Simple living was "ugly" in this culture, and work a sin. These tailed were living idols to be praised and taken cared of...... that is what people wanted you to think.

Yes, when the times were good, having a visitor eat some of your food and sleep in your bed was a fine thing, but when times were bad, when famine caused by an upset god ripping through the world affected your home, you had to sit there and watch a sleeper tailed eat your last bits of food, drink the last drops of clean water you had.

Throw them out? Are you mad? Neighahaye!

Everyone would think the gods would punish you after offending a sleeper tailed, but, let it be known....

Oh so many of those "Holy house fires" and "ruined crops" were caused directly by a Sleeper tailed with a grudge. Not the gods!

The third god was the Neo, known as the crocodile, or beast.

Oh, how do I start with these tailed? Living like animals? Their parents often throwing them outside before they can even walk on two legs to "toughen them up." Most of these poor kits died before adulthood. Those who did make it were scarred, physically and mentally. But they had to "keep it tough."

Crying? "Ugly."

Seeking help? "Ugly."

Even a whimper would have you labeled a failure.

Imagine a culture that turns you into a feral monster of a person. Your gods all violent. Your torture of the animals and people around you second nature. Oh, how I could go on about how disgusting the way tailed act to other animals that lived on the same planet as them....

These tailed lived in filth, their clothes reflecting the mind ruined through a culture of abuse. An early death, and dying in battle were considered the highest honor.

Honestly, for most of them it was the only time they would have true freedom. How could they not be excited?

The fourth god was the Mirage, known as the cat or rat.

Tailed of this type were record keepers. All history went through them. They often found themselves in political roles. After all, they controlled history... who else could talk about the past, and decide the future?

Clothes had to be fairly elegant, and to talk about present affairs was taboo! Plans to go to an event must be planned days in the future, and talks about said meeting should only be about the impact it would have in the future.

What a stupid culture. Purposefully disconnecting one's self from others with such words.

The fifth god was the Creator, known as the bull or yak.

Tailed of this type were the only ones allowed to touch technology of any sort. These things were barely understood, not like how technology is today. God machines, they were called, and they functioned on terror and destruction. Rabbits would be killed, reborn, and killed again 100 times a minute, just to fuel the energy for a city.

These tailed always followed the rules, and always dressed cleanly, but not fancy. To break a rule, no matter how stupid, was taboo. Not like they had a choice.

After all, if even a single rule was broken, a god machine could malfunction and swallow cities whole. Their serious attitudes and their addiction to weak substances kept them sane in the face of their god's demands.

The sixth god was the Singer, known as the fish or dolphin.

Laughable. Imagine being born to be the lowest of the low. To set everyone before yourself. To throw yourself upon puddles so no one else's furs may be tainted. Those born under this god were to stick to orders, to their routine, and their routine was as follows:

Be used, be the lowest of all tailed, and keep a happy tone about it as long as possible.

To these lowly people, all other tailed were like gods, and to disobey any order that did not harm others was a crime. The tailed of the Singer could not even take comfort in their own kind, as if not in a group to assist others, they would snap and fight. Judging each other, for how "pretty they were" and "how much help they provided", as if they all weren't the equivalent of dirt underfoot.

The seventh god was the Divided, known as the squid or monster.

Like the Mirage tailed before them, only those tailed who fell under this god could write facts about the present. To call them a liar was a crime, for why, oh why would a man of the god of knowledge ever spout falsehoods?

Though, if ever outed truly for a lie, they would be stripped of all items, their tail cut off, their fur shaven, and cast away into the unknown. For a liar under the Divided is worth nothing to the universe.

Imagine treating someone like that.

The eighth god was the Poetnix, known as the bird or poet.

Not everyone is meant to be in the arts, but those born under the poetnix must strive for it. Not in love with the arts? Hate poetry or painting? How dare you spit in the face of your god. As a poet, you must keep creating. Your art shall fill the homes of your neighbors, and your songs the air.

You would indulge in self destruction, not because it was required, but because it often lead to the best creative results. Open up your soul for all to see, don't be shy! Your pain is a play. Your true self never known.

Lastly, the final god is the Radical. Sweet Radical. Though I curse the gods, I curse her the least.

For at least in my eyes she always knew the horrors of it all, and only reached out to the other gods to battle them in defiance, even if she was a monster herself.

Those of the Radical would be forced to leave civilization. Sent to the edges of the wild lands, they would host sermons. Splitting their souls into a hundred pieces, and becoming flocks of animals.

Animals that would be hunted.

Animals that would be eaten.

The other tailed did not see us as people. They saw us as a meal. Something to be killed and enjoyed. Even when they knew that the enitity before them was a tailed, they took no heed....