12-03-2020, 12:36 AM
CrownS
Slowly, he is beginning to learn that borders mean precious little unless you say otherwise. No one tries to bar him from entering their homes and he never has to sneak his way into kingdoms. Perhaps this will change with time and a changing of thrones, but today he has chosen to explore the southern region from a comfortable altitude. He is easily spotted from the ground, in case they object to his presence, as he makes his way over the rolling hills.
Loess begins to lose his attention just as the scent of blood grows thick in his nose. He angles his wings to curve his path gently to the left until his eyes fall on the eastern queen and her prey. Crowns has gazed long into the abyss that is death and he has learned to give it more respect, but there is a certain curiosity that swells and bursts in his chest now. The temptation grows palpable in his chest.
He surrenders as he tucks his wings and dives neatly into a descent that plants him on all four hooves before the duo with hardly a sound. The bright blue of his eyes studies the torn pegasus before roaming up to the shifter. Her claws, her fangs, and her feral eyes tell him all he needs to know. She is precisely what he’s been searching for: a terrifying thing.
“You should put him back together and do it all again if you want to really send a message,” he says with an eager grin. “Or we can make him a puppet!”
Crowns exhales a plume of blue flames, then, which curl in on themselves to form the approximate outline of Mesec in miniature. Its tiny wings flap once, twice, and then the little copy vanishes in a wisp of smoke. The boy looks down at the unfortunate man, still smiling.
“What do you think? Do you want to be torn apart again or be a puppet? We can take a vote, that way we’re fair.”
Loess begins to lose his attention just as the scent of blood grows thick in his nose. He angles his wings to curve his path gently to the left until his eyes fall on the eastern queen and her prey. Crowns has gazed long into the abyss that is death and he has learned to give it more respect, but there is a certain curiosity that swells and bursts in his chest now. The temptation grows palpable in his chest.
He surrenders as he tucks his wings and dives neatly into a descent that plants him on all four hooves before the duo with hardly a sound. The bright blue of his eyes studies the torn pegasus before roaming up to the shifter. Her claws, her fangs, and her feral eyes tell him all he needs to know. She is precisely what he’s been searching for: a terrifying thing.
“You should put him back together and do it all again if you want to really send a message,” he says with an eager grin. “Or we can make him a puppet!”
Crowns exhales a plume of blue flames, then, which curl in on themselves to form the approximate outline of Mesec in miniature. Its tiny wings flap once, twice, and then the little copy vanishes in a wisp of smoke. The boy looks down at the unfortunate man, still smiling.
“What do you think? Do you want to be torn apart again or be a puppet? We can take a vote, that way we’re fair.”
you got me on my knees; i'm your one-man cult.