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| The night had been long, and cold.. the rain had been falling for three days straight. Listening to the rain fall within a hidden cave was a young silhouette of a deep crimson color. He had four mighty legs up to the knee in white, a noble face of sprouting white hair and a nose of soft velvety pink and white. He had eyes of a deep cherry wood color. His body was bittersweet and his ginger colored pelt gave off a soft glow of, perhapse, innocence. At the moment, his demeanor was rather a mixture of melancholy, choleric, abhorrence, rage, and a little bit of fatigue. Not like he had done much other than cause fury, and chaos amungst the others of the harem, but he still was tired. Like a dragon, he rose from his perch to the edge of the cave, his vermillion silhouette blurred, and broken in peices from the mini water fall, and falling water. The suzerain slowly would step out of the protection and warmth of his secret, and a void of a chasem he lived in. Slender, yet firm pistons lifted with intellagent might and perfected beauty of an arabian, and his talons slowly droping with a carefully placed step, and procisely calculated coordinates of the peices of ruines he stepped upon. The sorrow, blood soaked angel's tears fell upon his beautiful pelt, and perfect eched markings. How he damned them from crying upon his beautiful body; how dare they cry in his presance as if he were some sort of lost life. Infact, he was a lost soul. A olath mythic trapped in a world of undead, in a world which only the strong survive, and the weak parish. With each fallen tear of what seemed like holy water that hit this vampire's armoured body, an illusian of steam would arise from his body and give a wicked illusian of his aura that surged throughout the lands. How empty it seemed; how erridly quiet the lands were, The scent was so full of something he had never seen, or scented down before. His visage lowared, his nostrals snuffing at the earth below, intaking the inhailing scent of the humans, and other horses... If he were older, and wiser he would have probably fled... But he was three, and he was unsure of the scent.. And he was going to wait for one to come along.. The falling waters made it hard to identify it, not like he could in the first place. html © Crypt Orchid 2005 and Beyond |