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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "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


    [open]  I'm a hunter in my own right; any
    #5

    i found the antidote. i let the anger go and mother nature found it's place.
    now we're compatible, my inner animal, i wanted blood and got a taste.

     He is with, and without conflict in his thoughts: a creature of indecision and adaptation, of cycles that alternate between prey and predatory; but she is not the same. His thoughts wander on this topic, why the girl before him couldn’t simply do the same… why her bones were not malleable nor her flesh liquid and ever changing. He mulls and muses, unsure of how to ask and even what to assume; but he recalls that between the Kelpie and the Kraken- there was likely magic woven into blood that differed from her own and part of him wondered what exactly she was.

    Still, he shifts his weight and the scaled, starless skin seems liquid and glossy for a moment: dripping ink along the crevices and curves. Each tendril writhes with a mind of it’s own: suckers and barbs latching on to one another and curling around in a lengthy and well draped mass that covered his neck and part of his face. A single moment causes the amphibious shifter to blink before tilting his head and responding in softened tones, a deep roll of the baritone causing a minor vibration in his chest: though his tone seemed strangely excitable and boyish for a moment. 

    “Yes- it is a curse of curiosity.”  he admits, taking mind of the space between them suddenly.

    As if to belay some unease, he steps away: his dark eyes blinking before he mulls a thought- the inky and tendrils fading to threads of lengthy coarse hair and his coat smoothing as all the magic and mystery of his former body is broken into little more than a memory. Baroque in a fashion he is tall and muscular, well taken care of with no scarring nor signs of strife, and his coat is a white painted pattern of smoky grey or brown with primitive striping on his legs and a stripe along his back.

    Inky black and thick, the lengthy mane and tail hang idly and he shakes them for a moment.  “I used to look like this but something isn’t right, the texture of the hair or the feel of my skin- you… find it odd I ask that of you?”  he seems conflicted, perhaps a part of his nature due in part to the Kraken’s wild informality and the Kelpie’s inability to comprehend personal space.

    Though stepping back and unsure he shudders in this form- stretching his legs and easing himself momentarily before simply allowing the malleable visage to begin to shift and reshape… to shorten himself as hooves became claws and his feet became padded and canine. With the tail stiffening and his posture altered he simply allowed the wolfish form to take over: dusty grey and white with black fur… thick and shaggy. Blinking the brilliant orange eyes and studying her he speaks up in the same way, though this time with a kind of lethargy to him as he sits on resting haunches.

    “Do you have gifts? Magic?” A name?”  the latter is playful, and he offers her a grin. 

    Nodens




    @[Dracarys]
    PVP: On
    Minor Injury, and Some Mutilation Permitted.
    Reply


    Messages In This Thread
    I'm a hunter in my own right; any - by Nodens - 07-26-2019, 10:00 PM
    RE: I'm a hunter in my own right; any - by Nodens - 07-31-2019, 12:59 PM
    RE: I'm a hunter in my own right; any - by Nodens - 08-05-2019, 06:03 PM
    RE: I'm a hunter in my own right; any - by Nodens - 08-16-2019, 10:22 PM



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