| Subject: Fresh Meat |
Author:
Lysithia
|
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
Date Posted: 14:32:39 12/06/02 Fri
Burgandy 'nose-pad' is graced by the intense and deluging scent of other Canidae within her radius. In silence she walked, only the gentle jingle of argent bells, which had been tied to her ( left, lower ) ankle since she was a child. Not a word or gesture is made, only the somewhat smug, docile expression could be seen on the long face. The pointed, bat-like ears were at ease, apparently she was indifferent to the potential peril in this area. Yet, she'd known no better. Nine months old without guard or denfense, and yet intellect was of the essence. Lamps of endless sable are met with a rather infamous inquiry to the lands before her. Remaining to the placid silence of the eerie place, the Ethiopian nears a rather elder, and battered hollow log, fallen to fate of possibly a storm or simply old age. It's roots had been plucked completely from the ground, dirt still clinging to the lifeless corpse of the plant. It's bark, pallid auburn tone, dull as death. Moss had already plagued the soulless log, stretching about 2 meters of the thirteen-foot cadaver. To wordlessness she slowly perched herself atop the tree, towards the side nearing the roots. The thin, lissome form of the russet canine could just be seen against the background of the monolithic forest behind the logs. She rest upon bony loins, lithe limbs at rest, planted firmly to the surface. Ebony eyes gleam ahead, only waiting for some event..
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
| |
Feedback: 