kult
I am a storm that will swallow the children
and I will deliver them to the kingdom of pain
Make no mistake that his eyes observe, bottomless as they are. They both seem to fixate for moments on the lavender hued stallion drifting in the skies, making twists only aerials could manage. It is a sight to behold, he would not deny that, the grace with which Kirin flew was rarely matched.
Then he turns back to the black woman before him, eyeing the length of her neck as she reaches and bends it to alleviate an itch. He had a few scars himself, though they did not fuss him enough to dig at the skin, not anymore. For a time they all would aggravate him mercilessly as healing skin tends to do, and then he would forget them as soon as they had healed. Streaks of grey and pink flesh left behind, places the hair would not return.
That was always a curious thing to him, the way the skin no longer made way for fur. A strange thing he did not fully understand until he had once asked Kersey. Kersey was smart, Kersey was useful, he hoped this Voudou would be useful too.
He heads towards the sea, snaking a pattern across the hills, finding foot holes in the crags on the way down. He hadn't intended to give her a good tour really, just get her down to the water, get her clean. Kirin liked clean. It's only when she speaks again that he redirects their path, leading her to the expanse of obsidian fallen from the cliff side, worn smooth from time and salt water. "No sand." he retorts, though they were still a ways from the water. There simply was not really anywhere sandless by it really, except from the cliffs. Kult was all for adventure but he was not suicidal, he had tossed things from there a time or two. What didn't end up splattered across the jagged rock, never resurfaced- too broken to carry on.
This would have to do instead, the smooth black stones that shifted beneath his hooves, an uncanny surface to balance on. Maybe he wouldn't be able to get her clean at all, maybe he didn't have to either. Raelynx had brought a mare or two to the Cove, ones he kept to himself. Perhaps Kult could do the same, though he didn't really know what he would do with the woman. The fading bay had no inclination to romance or love, and he cringed at the thought of mounting anything to procreate. Who said he had to do either of those things? His dark eyes fell deep in thought as he stood, sniffing at the briny air until he spoke once more. "Mine." he said out loud after much consideration.
