| Subject: Sigh |
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Date Posted: 05/ 6/05 1:17:20pm Fri
In reply to:
Cyrus
's message, "I told you" on 05/ 6/05 12:51:56pm Fri
The sigh was soft, gentle, longing. It tingled with some kind of excitement, and yet it was a repressed feeling, lingering on the outter edges of loneliness.
Myuler was there, sitting against the base of the fountain that existed in the courtyard where Damuthca brought Tyrsis. How long had he been there? No one could know, he had something now none of them them knew, except for maybe one of them.
"I found something," he said softly, and brought his hand up gently, and made a waving motion behind the fountain.
There was a scraping sound, the sound claws might make against stone, and a rattling sound of a chain. But what came around the fountain had no chain, but scales. Dark green scales. Scales that trailed up the front legs to the head, and along the back between two large bat like wings. The back legs were furred and cat like, the tail ending fur at the base and continued on for six feet of plated scales. The face was draconic, ending in a sharp beak at the end of the scaled muzzle. But there were two very distinctive features that anyone, at the very least Tyrsis, would recognize.
A set of crimson red eyes, and a plume of feathers on the brow. The eyes were aware, alive, but lacking of something.
Self.
Scaled jaws parted in a hiss and a shower of silver teeth.
"Yea I agree. I don't like this guy either."
Myuler turned his head to rest on his shoulder, but his gaze was on Cyrus. He didn't say anything, but the look said enough.
You are in over your head.
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