05-04-2019, 01:28 AM
There is something about these season that makes him even more reckless.
It’s something in the air—something both familiar and new to him. It makes his smile wider, that roguish angle to it spreading across his face as he studies her. He laughs, low and throaty and appreciative, of her humor. “I’ve never been one to honor rules of good conduct,” a roll of muscular shoulders in an almost shrug, an almost cavalier dismissal of what could be perceived as a correction. “I’m sure you remember.”
After all, out of anyone alive in this new world, she’d be one to remember.
The chaos. The bloodshed. The mercilessness that made him hunger for so much destruction. The raids that he led against innocent kingdoms, just because he liked the sound of their terror.
He may not dip his toes into the political climate of Beqanna nowadays—leaving it to his children to do the rabble rousing for now—but that doesn’t mean he forgets what it’s like to taste blood on your tongue.
When she eludes to the Chamber, he is surprised at the ache he feels in his gut, but if he has ever been good at anything, it’s hiding any authentic feelings he actually has. So instead he stretches and then shifts, shaking off the feline form and emerging as himself in his truest sense. His thick, tangled mane hands over both sides of an arched neck, a ragged scar racing across his chest as a reminder of his loss.
“You should know better than to comment on a lady’s lack of heart,” he grins, yellow eyes glittering with good humor as he takes a step toward her. “Is it nice to see mine, Ryatah?” he growls lightly, the edges of his teeth showing against the ink of his lips. It is easier to think on this, to focus on the cream of her skin and the delicate lines of her face then the loss of what many could have said was his actual true love.
“You know, you never did spend much time with me.”
He angles his handsome head, taking another step until he can nearly feel the heat of her.
“Such a terrible loss for you."
@[Ryatah]
It’s something in the air—something both familiar and new to him. It makes his smile wider, that roguish angle to it spreading across his face as he studies her. He laughs, low and throaty and appreciative, of her humor. “I’ve never been one to honor rules of good conduct,” a roll of muscular shoulders in an almost shrug, an almost cavalier dismissal of what could be perceived as a correction. “I’m sure you remember.”
After all, out of anyone alive in this new world, she’d be one to remember.
The chaos. The bloodshed. The mercilessness that made him hunger for so much destruction. The raids that he led against innocent kingdoms, just because he liked the sound of their terror.
He may not dip his toes into the political climate of Beqanna nowadays—leaving it to his children to do the rabble rousing for now—but that doesn’t mean he forgets what it’s like to taste blood on your tongue.
When she eludes to the Chamber, he is surprised at the ache he feels in his gut, but if he has ever been good at anything, it’s hiding any authentic feelings he actually has. So instead he stretches and then shifts, shaking off the feline form and emerging as himself in his truest sense. His thick, tangled mane hands over both sides of an arched neck, a ragged scar racing across his chest as a reminder of his loss.
“You should know better than to comment on a lady’s lack of heart,” he grins, yellow eyes glittering with good humor as he takes a step toward her. “Is it nice to see mine, Ryatah?” he growls lightly, the edges of his teeth showing against the ink of his lips. It is easier to think on this, to focus on the cream of her skin and the delicate lines of her face then the loss of what many could have said was his actual true love.
“You know, you never did spend much time with me.”
He angles his handsome head, taking another step until he can nearly feel the heat of her.
“Such a terrible loss for you."
@[Ryatah]
![[Image: atrox.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/XBppy9VY/atrox.png)
now be defiant, the lion, give them the fight that will open their eyes