08-15-2016, 04:31 PM
Gunsynd
I wanna chain you up I wanna tie you down
Shadows are his favorite, and so this time of day when the shadows grow to odd and unnatural size is usually when you will find him lurking about outside of the valley’s embrace. He enjoys the meadow, as much as he can actually enjoy a place that is sunny most of the time. The shadows help, however, and he moves within them towards the edges of the meadow where other lurkers tend to hide.
It is here that he comes across the roan female watching the commotion of the meadow as single silent observer. He is familiar with this; he too liked to observe the others running amok in their little lives. It was a play, a constant drama that he watched unfold around him. Sometimes he would interject himself into the fray just for the fun of it, the rush of feeling alive. But more often than not he lived on the edge of reality, content to make the tide of the living hurry around him like a stone in a stream.
Such was the fate of the immortal, and he finds that the dark horse before him is of this fate as well. Not that she looks ancient, or tired, or old even; he can just sense the same unstirring quality, that she is in no rush to force herself into their world. He too, does not disturb her right away but considers her for a moment. She may look familiar but he has seen so many faces throughout his long life they all begin to run together. Perhaps it was best that way.
When he finally decides to interrupt her solitude he does so quietly, but not silently. He does not feel like playing his usual games today, and so he wears his natural black pelt and dark tangled locks. His dark eyes turn from her to the others she had been observing and he gives a quiet scoff. “The players change, but the story always seems to be the same.” His words are deep and somewhat raspy as they emerge from his lips. “Always so busy with their silly little lives.”
He turns his gaze to his companion and smiles, which would have been a reassuring gesture if the glint in his eyes had been a little less animalistic. Her scent tells him she has been elsewhere, not unlike himself, but she was back for whatever reason. They all had their reasons, didn’t they? He cocks his back leg, redistributing his heft to the other three. “What brings you back here? Boredom? Life without end can become quite dull after all.”
I M J U S T A S U C K E R F O R P A I N