"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
10-08-2017, 11:13 AM (This post was last modified: 10-08-2017, 12:40 PM by kahzie.)
Through despair and hope, Through faith and love. Till we find our place, on the path unwinding.
Hunting, consuming, cleaning - blood, tender organs, and fibrous tendons were a part of his daily routine. His favorite color was red and he loved the thrill of the chase - it was a game he always won. But his violence was not indulgent, it was fundamental. The interworking of a creature held as much fascination and mystique for him as apple pie.
But taking life was apart of his daily routine and he was an efficient killer. Death cries did not tear at his heartstrings and he slept soundly during most the day - too soundly probably.
His belly is warm and full. The blood has carefully been cleaned away and the only evidence of his pre-dawn activities is half a mile downwind feeding the vultures. He sleeps soundly in the shade of a solitary tree somewhere near the middle of the meadow. He likes summer - the mares are flirty and the prey is fat - but he preferred to sleep through the hottest parts of the day. And that's what he does now.
With a grumble the lion rolls onto his other side and licks his thick golden lips in his sleep.
ZENITH
@[Karsi] <33
she can 100% be as rude, evil, or nice as you like.
10-08-2017, 12:30 PM (This post was last modified: 10-08-2017, 12:36 PM by Karsi.)
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.
Through despair and hope, Through faith and love. Till we find our place, on the path unwinding.
The earth trembles, rattling him awake. The lion's lids flash open, he looks out for a stampede - that was the only time he had ever felt the earth move the way it did now - but what he sees is a lone mare instead of a herd.
A smug lone mare.
With a single graceful motion, he leaves the ground and lands with his weight evenly distributed between four wide paws. At first, his adrenaline is raging and his claws are at the ready. But as she speaks, he finds his boiling blood cooling. She sits back on one hip as if she saw lions in the Meadow every day - as if he was boring her. She likes games, and you're her toy.
But he finds the thought is not altogether unwelcome.
Heavily, he sits on his haunches with his tail neatly wrapping around his back paws. His amber eyes reflect the rising sun, but they don't lave her face despite the missiles she had aimed at him. She likes a show.
He breaks his stare with a massive yawn, long ivory fangs glinting in the morning sunlight, eyes squeezed shut.
"Well, I'm awake now, just like you wanted. What was it you had planned after that?" If you can't fight them join them, right? And she looked like one he would much rather join than fight.
The cat rises, stares. I expect flashing teeth and blood...always blood...
But...
It...He...sits back with glowing eyes that seem to burn my black skin. The animal yawns wide so I may see his stained teeth...I cannot help but count for a moment as a grin splits my dark lips as I am curious about this animal. I do not his the way I stare at him, wondering what little game this was, wondering how many ants I could burn with a magnifying glass.
I do not have a plan nor have I ever really. I have never needed a safety net nor would I truly ever deflect a sure death to Valhalla. But the cat offers nothing more than a full gut of fresh meat and a stupid boorish look upon its face. I wish I could feel the thrill of surprise but my heart will not let me feel anything more than the serrated tears by teeth upon the nape of my neck or the deep fucking I have received from the men I allow inside of me.
I think I may actually be truly fucked up.
"Whatcha doin'?" I ask with a rather flat tone (like always) but almost sing-song in nature. I rake a blue hoof back as I am growing comfortable, enjoying this moment with the feline.
10-18-2017, 11:23 AM (This post was last modified: 10-18-2017, 11:24 AM by Zenith.)
Through despair and hope, Through faith and love. Till we find our place, on the path unwinding.
Whatcha doin
Her tone is flat yet almost whimsical. She is so relaxed and aggressive simultaneously, it had him baffled, but it also had him intrigued.
The lion shifts then, before he answers - growing taller, becoming half equine. He is a well made red dun stallion in this form, his golden-red tail becomes full and his claws solidify into hooves. His Hanoverian body is trim and his legs are long and well-muscled, yet this equine body always feels clumsy when compared with the feline. He retains elements of the lion he truly is in his soul, as always, a thick protective mane covers his neck and cascades down below his chest towards his belly and his ivory fangs too - he is never without those.
Zenith doubts she will be impressed by his trick, but he wants to be able to stand abreast of her.
“I was napping.” A crooked grin accompanies his mild sarcasm. It is hard work to stop himself from striding forward, to see how close she will let him get. With most any other mare he would already have stepped into her space, be running his fangs gently along her crests just to gauge the reaction. But he knows it is a much more dangerous dance with this one, and potentially a much more rewarding one.
He would take those other girls, week as prey, when they didn't push him away. When they laughed nervously and pressed themselves into him with all the bravery they could muster, and he would be content at the moment. But they weren't the ones he dreamed about, he dreamed about women like this. And she sees something interesting in him too apparently, but he doesn’t dare close the gap between them yet. Not because of a concern for his safety, but because she is the most interesting thing to happen to him since Lirren.
“But I don’t mind waking up to a beautiful woman threatening my life.” He purrs in all sincerity with a tilt of his head, and a fire in his amber eyes.
