05-31-2015, 03:14 AM
 Night's vacant moon was hanging in the bleak sky; the end of winter was still cold and dull, still uncooperative at best. He found himself in the field once more. All this interaction, it was quite becoming for the grey demon. He found himself with a little purpose, a little bit more of an angle in life. Yet he was still a sloth at heart. He bobbed in, the sky his road, his broad wings his mode of transportation, much preferred. His pale form moved ghostly, serenely in the night's light. Dark eyes watching, waiting, stalking the field with intentions that even he knew nothing of. What he did he did out of sheer apathy. Do something, then lull, think about it and do something again. He was finding that the ridge was becoming quite a statement, a home if you will. And he was starting to feel like the sloth demon of days of old, was starting to finally grow up. Sort of like Peter Pan, but a lazier, more handsome version. Nier clocked the grey Arabian; her lithe build a beacon in the dark field, among the throng of bodies, she stood out. His own pale frame shifted and he took a slow descend, careful with his entrance. These mares could startle easily. But he gave her the benefit of the doubt, he'd land near her, fully visible. When he was about to land, ebony feet touch the ground, he saw another approach her. All words, all eye. His black body an imposing shadow upon the moonlit field. Nier flicked his tail, glided over his hocks. he cocked a hind hoof, tucked his pale wings beside him and stared first at the steed. Offered him no more than a simple acknowledgment, the slightest dip of his muzzle, but no more. His attention then turned to the pale wanderer, his eyes noticing things that were hidden, things deeper in her soul that crept out in things such as a little dullness in the eye, the way shoulders sagged with a weight that was not physically there. "Evening." his tone is feather-light, burdened very little by emotion. the wrinkles in his muzzle twitched, some sort of a mock smile, mock smirk finding it's way upon his grey lips. "Nothing as haunting as a ghost in disguise. Tell me, Pet, why carry so much baggage on those delicate shoulders? It only means to burden." Oh, his manners. The demon does forget them sometimes; only reminded when the black steed said his name. "I'm Nier." |