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 | pewter 'stang strides forth, indicators pulled upright as chocolate voids scan topography, three-beat cadence sounding the alarm of his entrance . knotted locks dance along arc'd boa, swinging in time to the quick pace, talons continuing his history in time and space along the terrain in rough u outlines . feathered plume wages war against those of the insect squad, slapping upon muscled posterior with striking regularity . eerie whistle breaks forth from dappled frame, a call to any in hearing distance, he wished to be a loner no more - and he had come to seek a place here, to make history and then there are thoughts a quiet place . a little dark, it seems . it fits me, though . i'm used to it . they used to say i was a ghost in the night, a theif, a traitor . maybe i still am . i guess you never know until you try, right? . so we'll have to see if there's any risk-takers here or not . i sure hope so . life is so dull without a little action to spice it up, a little mystery to tear you away from the monotonous herd life . otherwise, it's the same day in and day out . what fun is that? |