"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
12-07-2015, 04:25 PM (This post was last modified: 12-07-2015, 04:29 PM by kryll.)
k r y l l
She knows how beautiful she is. She knows how it can be used to her advantage, how she can benefit from her seduction of men. She knows how the way of her hips and the sultry tone of her voice can make her incredibly convincing. She is no fool when it comes to what could be considered love: she's never felt it, but oh does she love to imitate it. Men are weak where she is strong, and she isn't afraid to use her sex to get what she wants. She is a seductress, a temptress, plain and simple. She thirsts for others to do her bidding and for power - she wants to feel worshiped. That's not too much to ask, hm?
She is at home in the field; here, she is unknown, and here, she can practice again what she does best. She's been out-of-sight for a reason - she perfected her skills on others, used to learn her body to her advantage, more fully than she had before. Her tail twitches and flows around her ankles, mouth taking up delicate bites of the springtime grass she's yearned for since the snow began to melt. She is lonely, although she refuses to admit it. She refuses to be an easy catch; they can use her for sex, she doesn't give a damn, but if they want to take her home, she'll make it hard for them. She refuses to go, to follow, like a blind little lamb who needs guidance.
She can take care of herself, but why not have a little fun?
k r y l l
She knows how beautiful she is. She knows how it can be used to her advantage, how she can benefit from her seduction of men. She knows how the way of her hips and the sultry tone of her voice can make her incredibly convincing. She is no fool when it comes to what could be considered love: she's never felt it, but oh does she love to imitate it. Men are weak where she is strong, and she isn't afraid to use her sex to get what she wants. She is a seductress, a temptress, plain and simple. She thirsts for others to do her bidding and for power - she wants to feel worshiped. That's not too much to ask, hm?
She is at home in the field; here, she is unknown, and here, she can practice again what she does best. She's been out-of-sight for a reason - she perfected her skills on others, used to learn her body to her advantage, more fully than she had before. Her tail twitches and flows around her ankles, mouth taking up delicate bites of the springtime grass she's yearned for since the snow began to melt. She is lonely, although she refuses to admit it. She refuses to be an easy catch; they can use her for sex, she doesn't give a damn, but if they want to take her home, she'll make it hard for them. She refuses to go, to follow, like a blind little lamb who needs guidance. She can take care of herself, but why not have a little fun?
k r y l l
She knows how beautiful she is. She knows how it can be used to her advantage, how she can benefit from her seduction of men. She knows how the way of her hips and the sultry tone of her voice can make her incredibly convincing. She is no fool when it comes to what could be considered love: she's never felt it, but oh does she love to imitate it. Men are weak where she is strong, and she isn't afraid to use her sex to get what she wants. She is a seductress, a temptress, plain and simple. She thirsts for others to do her bidding and for power - she wants to feel worshiped. That's not too much to ask, hm? She is at home in the field; here, she is unknown, and here, she can practice again what she does best. She's been out-of-sight for a reason - she perfected her skills on others, used to learn her body to her advantage, more fully than she had before. Her tail twitches and flows around her ankles, mouth taking up delicate bites of the springtime grass she's yearned for since the snow began to melt. She is lonely, although she refuses to admit it. She refuses to be an easy catch; they can use her for sex, she doesn't give a damn, but if they want to take her home, she'll make it hard for them. She refuses to go, to follow, like a blind little lamb who needs guidance. She can take care of herself, but why not have a little fun?
if you despise my existence, I hold no grudge but to protect those precious to me, I will make no such promises
It wasn't easy to seduce a man like him. He would begin as a loving subject for those to toy with yet until he found exactly what he wanted always and could turn on whoever in a flash. He was almost transparent to seduction by females, and only layed eyes upon few, those within his herd and companions within the meadow. Otherwise he showed no feeling towards any others, outsiders begging for the love and attention of him as there lover. No, he had done no such thing yet too easily he could allow himself to be coiled around a women's finger, an easy toy for only few mares to catch sight of.
The pale boy was not one to make choices, nor to decided who would gladly join him in his herd. He was simply not talented with words nor grace, or looks. Yet can easily catch a female off guard in an instant crimson eyes circle around the field searching from his next victim that he would return with to his herd. With many failures it was probably time to force it upon one mare, his own little toy. Sure he showed sympathy to only two mares in his herd only because they were the real females he truly loved, those whom he wouldn't speak nor point out.
Rummaging throughout he crowd of bodies he found her, upon the far end of the field. He strode towards her in a dominant manner, he wouldn't allow any protest out of her if she refused to come, too many failures so much time wasted. It was enough. He could find the seductive look upon her eyes, and couldn't help but flash a roguish smile in return. As blood red optics studied her dainty body, he could easily break her once she returned with him. Or perhaps that would be too easy for his future toy, perhaps he would wait, wait until autumn had sprung. And then he would make his cruel move upon the mare.
Alabaster lobes perked, "Hello, little dove." he husked the words in his ghostly rasped vocal cords. He loved calling his toys the words of innocent creatures it seemed so right, and so pleasant to his ears. " I'm Daey." he spoke pleasantly giving a shallow bow. Cutting straight to the chase the pink skinned brute spoke, " Today is your lucky day little dove." he paused words flew out of his lips like bitter whine, pausing for only a brief moment. " Your mine." he spoke in a rough tone gently striding behind her and shoving her towards Forlorn forest.
