| Subject: † Greetings † |
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Date Posted: 09:45:14 05/28/02 Tue
In reply to:
Anony Sammy
's message, "If I didn't loathe her so much, and hate the fact that she's alive yet again, I'd have someone reply to her.. .as my stallions do have the balls to tame her..." on 09:11:57 05/28/02 Tue
[ ooc - ok, nevermind, I'm bored enough at skewl that I need something to post to... but I warn you, you kill my brand new pyro horse and I'll kill you back. *smirk* ]
† Silence dominates the world, the royal red carpet spilling forth before the lofty fatale, blood red, perhaps it truely was blood. Darkness consumes the land, much like a serpent, unhinging his jaws, consuming the small field mouse into a world of anguish. Ashen smirk dances within the shadows. Clouds rumble upon the edge of the earth, impending, racing, smashing against one another. The brawl continues, tears of pain beginning to beat down lightly, pattering against the kelly emerald terrain. Glowing optics radiate beneath the inky veils. Adding the finishing touch, lighting empowers the skyline, cracking in whip-like fashion, electric spears thrust towards the mortal world. Fire. Dead trees overheated with dry wummer winds collect the slender sparks, reformulating an age-old process. Fire. Something that none could control. Tearing at the brittle timbers, aching to reach towards the Heavens, slender tails flicking upwards, licking towards the dry breeze, dancing to the unheard rhythm of hell. Fire. Burn for me. †
† Ashen muzzle tips upwards, nares dialating, grasping the smothering stench of smoke, the wispy clouds entering the dampened pores. Glazed lips curl at the corners, tender smile, much like a lover's caress, creeping across perfectly sculpted mask. Sooty hued jaw melds into molten lava tones, maroon, burgundy, with wine like properties. Optics dash open, long, slender eyelashes fluttering effeminatly. Auditory triangles quiver, shifting towards the crackling in the distance, the light sound of death, the tinkling of sparks brushing against new fuel. Pinkened tongue lashes out, swiping across dried lips. Finally, like a sacred ritual dance, beast moves, motions calculated, perfect, in rhythm and tune. Hardy hooves tap against the virgin soil, crescent marks scarring forever the unmarked turf. Ebon stone shifts into slim feathers, the thick pelt once agian transforming into garnet ruby hues atop obsidian flesh. Muscles quiver in anticipation, dancing beneath the skin, serpents slithering across a sturdy framework of ivory bones. Path carries warrior towards the blaze, against the flow of fearful creatures, against the natural order of things. Reflection of the inferno glitters within deep coffee optics, complete fascination spent upon glowing amber tones. †
† Seemingly a lifetime later, beast mvoes from the dead ashes, a type of pain stinging within chestal cavity. The display was over. The world had resumed her light summer tones, the animals had calmed with ease. Yet one remained distraught. Attention now befalls the idle female, cranium shifting to allow occuli to dance across her form. Light smirk creases lips once more. Here he could find entertainment again. She was so much like the flame, so independant, weary, hateful. Noting the many battle wounds mottling her pelt, he could easily see her warrior heritage. His own mind travels to his marks, the long gash against his neck, the trio of claw slashes upon one flank, and a thousand other nicks and abrassions leaving him impure, tainted. She too shifted like the inferno, her motions calculated, yet haphazard, random. She had her own beat, her own rhythm. Perhaps some day he might hear the music within her mind. Yet for now, she was an enigma. A flame. †
† Beast shifts nearer, inky shadows cascading across wine pelt, obsidian waterfalls melting along muscled form. Ribcage swells and implodes with breathing, steady, silent. Resembling the stealthy fox, stag takes caution and perfection in mind, ever shifting nearer. loitering within the darkened utopia, beast remains calm. What might she do, attack him? He could handle himself in a battle, should such drastic measures be taken. One could never be certain if the flame would bite, or simply warm. Releasing a hushed sigh, beast halts, near enough to watch her actions, yet far enough, hopefully, to avoid being burned. †
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