karsi
At long last the reek of death and decay no longer blanket my oily black skin with it's putrid insistence. Truly, I never really minded and it kept the soapy film of scum equines away from me. My tolerance never fails to be quite low for their bullshit and mindless blabbering. I can not stand the way mares roll their eyes or the way spittle collects in the very creases of their ugly round lips. They remind me of seagulls at the beach, screeching and squawking just to fall quiet and look around to see who notices.
I part the dense path of rocks with a mere whim. The dead litter of roots scramble, i push boulders with a simple glance. This is all nothing to me. I have the ability to split mountains, carve oceans, swallow a whole island. I have grown strong since the reckoning and I intend to continue my practice of the craft. How I love to watch the little creatures of the forest skitter and scramble when I shake their homes or unnerve them with the toss of pebbles into the dense forest bushes.
The blue stockings of my legs contrast against my skin and even more against the shock of white that is my mane and tail. I do not try to hide because I do not know fear but if I did...well, I am not sure. Instead I see a fat lion lolling about not far from me with what appears to be remains to some poor bastard of a creature. My pale eyes watch the feline with flat features. I am not amused by this animal.
I tremble the earth around the sleeping bag of bones and fat. I am being generous and the animal will more than likely be too stupid to realize it so I draw a few sharp, thick limbs of the old oak tress not far off near me so I may plunge them into the animal's body if it should decide it wants to nibble upon my lovely tender parts.
Most are not so stupid and tend to turn tail. Would this one be the same. "Hey cat." My voice is low, flat but nearly shattering the early dawn hours as red and gold begins to streak across the sky like bloody finger paints. I study the animal more as it undoubtedly should be rising. I wonder if this is a lion at all. It does seem to be out of place so instead of cautioning myself I rock back on one of my slender hips, relaxing as I wait for the animal to wake.
I part the dense path of rocks with a mere whim. The dead litter of roots scramble, i push boulders with a simple glance. This is all nothing to me. I have the ability to split mountains, carve oceans, swallow a whole island. I have grown strong since the reckoning and I intend to continue my practice of the craft. How I love to watch the little creatures of the forest skitter and scramble when I shake their homes or unnerve them with the toss of pebbles into the dense forest bushes.
The blue stockings of my legs contrast against my skin and even more against the shock of white that is my mane and tail. I do not try to hide because I do not know fear but if I did...well, I am not sure. Instead I see a fat lion lolling about not far from me with what appears to be remains to some poor bastard of a creature. My pale eyes watch the feline with flat features. I am not amused by this animal.
I tremble the earth around the sleeping bag of bones and fat. I am being generous and the animal will more than likely be too stupid to realize it so I draw a few sharp, thick limbs of the old oak tress not far off near me so I may plunge them into the animal's body if it should decide it wants to nibble upon my lovely tender parts.
Most are not so stupid and tend to turn tail. Would this one be the same. "Hey cat." My voice is low, flat but nearly shattering the early dawn hours as red and gold begins to streak across the sky like bloody finger paints. I study the animal more as it undoubtedly should be rising. I wonder if this is a lion at all. It does seem to be out of place so instead of cautioning myself I rock back on one of my slender hips, relaxing as I wait for the animal to wake.
your hips on my jawline
