08-15-2016, 05:23 PM
Gunsynd
I wanna chain you up I wanna tie you down
With a crack, not unlike that of lightning, he finds himself in the meadow. While traveling this way required much more energy than simply unfolding his transparent wings, he found the rush of magic, the complete control over his essence, to be utterly addictive. It was a high and one he needed. His dark eyes, contracted from the high glance around to see the effect his sudden appearance has had on those around him. Birds take flight, rabbits dart off in various directions, horses look up in surprise, some visibly distraught. He inhales deeply and begins to move himself towards the lake. He wants to feel the cold rush of the water over his inky pelt after that ethereal experience.
But the lake is occupied by a lone female. Normally this in itself would entertain him, but today he finds its a simple nuisance. The girl reeks of the jungle. He had known his fair share of the rank of sisters. Most of them were angry, bitter women who liked to vilify those that did not share their chromosome makeup. Some he had taken by force, just to remind them of their place in the world while others had come crawling to him, begging to be made into real women. He does not take the time to consider which of the two groups this mare would fall into, he simply brushes past her and dives fully into the cold waters of the lake.
He submerges himself totally, turning his pelt into a perfect replica of the water around him. The piercing cold is exactly what his brain needed to recover from the trip here. He changes his lungs into gills to allow himself to stay under longer, his body becoming frigid and stiff. He relishes the overwhelming feeling, the pinpricks all over his body like the kiss of death itself. Moments, minutes pass before he resumes his normal state and emerges from the water, shaking the water from his great, transparent wings that glisten with the tendrils of liquid. He folds them and places them back at his sides, visible only in the continued shimmer of moisture.
His dark eyes, refreshed and mischievous now find that the jungle mare remains where she had stood when he took his plunge. Perhaps she would provide some entertainment after all. An ominous grin makes its way onto his dark lips and suddenly he is gone, his body now a mist that floats on an artificial wind to the mare’s side. And then he is there, his body beside hers as it reforms from its temporarily gaseous state. The heat from her body radiates out and he soaks it up to rejuvenate his frozen limbs. He towers over her, the same grin on his devilishly handsome features as his eyes climb over her possessively.
“Why has the kitten roamed so far from her jungle?” He asks sadistically, the baritone voice just loud enough to reach her ears. Don’t run, darling - he can find you.
I M J U S T A S U C K E R F O R P A I N