Black Widow (any)

[Kirin]

And she'll always get the best of me, the worst is yet to come
All the misery was necessary when we're deep in love

There is no help for you here, not in the way you wish you poor, poor thing. Perhaps in another life, on another day something warm and consoling would have found you here in the field, bickering against yourself. No such luck I’m afraid.

Kirin doesn’t have an inner voice to tussle with and if he did he’d be the clear winner of that fight. His mind and the wicked thoughts in it were his and his alone, just the way he liked it. His life was always just so and he was apt to keep It that way, he was apt to continue selecting and nibbling at Beqanna’s mass of women just as he always had. Even when there were none here, well, he made his own at home- go figure.

If you think the lavender stud is beautiful, you’re right, there’s no shortcoming in appearances for the ‘king’ of Silver Cove. Even the sun dare aid his trysts, lighting his lavender hued skin in brilliance as he sails over the spring touched fields. Another broken thing catches his eye like a shining metal object to a magpie though her coat is an unremarkable pitch. The silver in his soul reflects through his hazel irises and he touches the earth with a gentle kiss of hoof.

His smile only broadens as she seems to struggle with some inner demon, finding her feet in a knock-kneed gracelessness. Oh but those inner demons, they just don’t have that same pain factor and allure as the ones veiled in flesh and blood. Adorned with pastel plumes tucked to their sides, towering over men and women alike in a regal fashion and carriage.

“My, my, best take it easy.” He cooed, lacing his words thick with smoke and honey, a stout bourbon on a bitter night.

Kirin

son of Khaos