08-08-2016, 11:37 AM
± when you feel my heat, look into my eyes ±
The smell reached him first, an acrid scent, cloying at his lungs with an unpleasant decay. It was thick too, not just some faint whiff of something long gone and easing into its state of decomposition, this thing had been long at it. Whatever it was had been in the process far longer than it should have been and that is when Killdare knew it just wasn’t some stinking forest corpse. This was something else entirely, ancient and unresting and passing through his home. He would not, could not simply ignore this presence so instead he traced that awful smell. The source of it was both surprising and not surprising at all, sure he knew it was something dead but he did not fathom the extent of it.
It should have been something to remain in the ground, pieces of skin hanging from its gaunt frame like tattered curtains in a dilapidated mansion. The Chamber King could see through the creature in places, gaping holes punched through it’s body or what was left of the body. Gently the sides rose and fell, a pattern and yet not consistent or long enough to be drawing breath- not quite. Did it even have lungs? He saw none, in fact he did not see much of anything, save for old bones within the breaks of rotted flesh. This being existed against reason, curled claws carving into the forest floor below and sharp teeth set against its dry lips.
In all his years he had not crossed any of the undead equine to canter across the paths of Beqanna, not until today. Oh what a day for it too, what a time to find such an abomination when their world had been overturned and left vulnerable. His first thought was, who is this? What did it want, why had it come, who had returned it? If the bay was left to guess at how such an animal had come to be he would have promptly thought Eight had risen the beast. This was something entirely without reason, so he would not try to make sense of how it had come to be just yet- he would simply accept that it was.
For a moment he watches, his own glassy green eyes taking in the entirety of the horse, the man. Sometimes he had to stop trying to consider how it even moved about, how it was engineered or worse, how it was puppeted. If Killdare wanted to know these things he would have to find out, as he should, wasn’t that part of his job anyways? He sent a nicker in the direction of the other male, because it was distinctly male, he wanted to in no way take this one by surprise. Gods know what it was capable of exactly. His wavy black tail flicked against his hocks, snapping to and fro as he waited to see just how this thing would react. The bay King didn’t need to find out how the Chamber would react, she was already beating a tune against the pine littered earth. A steady thrum- thrum- thrumming against his hooves and with that he finally spoke. “Hello then,” he waited, waited for speech, waited for answers.
It should have been something to remain in the ground, pieces of skin hanging from its gaunt frame like tattered curtains in a dilapidated mansion. The Chamber King could see through the creature in places, gaping holes punched through it’s body or what was left of the body. Gently the sides rose and fell, a pattern and yet not consistent or long enough to be drawing breath- not quite. Did it even have lungs? He saw none, in fact he did not see much of anything, save for old bones within the breaks of rotted flesh. This being existed against reason, curled claws carving into the forest floor below and sharp teeth set against its dry lips.
In all his years he had not crossed any of the undead equine to canter across the paths of Beqanna, not until today. Oh what a day for it too, what a time to find such an abomination when their world had been overturned and left vulnerable. His first thought was, who is this? What did it want, why had it come, who had returned it? If the bay was left to guess at how such an animal had come to be he would have promptly thought Eight had risen the beast. This was something entirely without reason, so he would not try to make sense of how it had come to be just yet- he would simply accept that it was.
For a moment he watches, his own glassy green eyes taking in the entirety of the horse, the man. Sometimes he had to stop trying to consider how it even moved about, how it was engineered or worse, how it was puppeted. If Killdare wanted to know these things he would have to find out, as he should, wasn’t that part of his job anyways? He sent a nicker in the direction of the other male, because it was distinctly male, he wanted to in no way take this one by surprise. Gods know what it was capable of exactly. His wavy black tail flicked against his hocks, snapping to and fro as he waited to see just how this thing would react. The bay King didn’t need to find out how the Chamber would react, she was already beating a tune against the pine littered earth. A steady thrum- thrum- thrumming against his hooves and with that he finally spoke. “Hello then,” he waited, waited for speech, waited for answers.
KILLDARE
King of the Chamber
