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| Subject: .spreading.like.wildfire. | |
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Author: Brand |
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Date Posted: 12:53:24 11/06/04 Sat In reply to: >>Ciara<< 's message, ">>A^Costly^Bid<<" on 20:12:21 11/05/04 Fri (*hugs you* You rock! *utter glee!* I should warn you, he won't be easily won, but the fact that Ciara is an Amazon is a stone on your side of the scale, since most of his anger is directed at the male half of the human race.) Spectral amber-green eyes glared ferociously at the man nearest the tiger's cage, daring the man to give Brand a reason to let loose his claws. But beyond his eyes, his posture remained deceptively idle. It was enough for him that they knew he could cause severe bodily harm and treated him accordingly. The humans were wary...now if only he could find a way out of this bloody cage. Those eyes, enough to haunt the dreams of the most hardened of warriors, had just begun making another round of surveying the cage, studying it for anything resembling a weak point, when a voice shouted out, catching his interest. His gaze shot to the woman, only to find that she was staring intently at him, a spark of something like admiration in her warrior's eyes, and he raised his head, his stance taking on a purely feline arrogance, for he knew the power of his muscles, the danger resting idly within his massive golden body. He eyed her haughtily, his expression ultimately imperious, as he rose lazily to his feet. His guards jumped back warily, and an expression that could almost be taken as a Mephistophelian grin crossed his face as he studied the one who evidently thought to own him. His fiery eyes hardened. He would -never- be owned. Blood from his latest beating still trickled down his side, marring the pale fur of his unusual coat, drying and leaving darker coppery stripes that intermingled with his own dark tan ones. The wounds themselves were closing, but the memory remained, and flames rose within him, echoing in his eyes, as he recalled the lash of the whip, the slice of it through his flesh, and vowed that the next one to raise a whip to him would lose the hand they held it in. Even if it was a female. His eyes held the warning as he stood by the bars of his cage, and it radiated from him in the very line of his back, the low, almost idle flick of his tail, the set of his ears. He too was filled with a sense of superiority, scorn for the creatures who thought to master him, without a hide thick enough to ward off his teeth, or claws or teeth sharp enough to bite back. The only weapons they had were those they made, and without those, they were little good against a beast such as himself. He would not be broken, and he would not be ruled. [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ] |
| Subject | Author | Date |
| >>Inside<< | The Sundancer | 19:27:38 11/06/04 Sat |