06-15-2017, 03:14 AM
i'm not going to change, so stay out of my way.
i don't need you to understand that i'm already saved.
The quiet tranquility of morning seemingly envelopes her in its warm and gentle embrace, soothing whatever ache had quelled within the empty void of her chest, drawing out into an open clearing and bathing her in its celestial light. The moon has already begun to fall. A wide, blossoming presence, its light waning as the darkness of nightfall is softened with the pale light of morning – and in its place, the bright, blinding sun has risen over the distant horizon, and even the light haze of dawn cannot keep it at bay.
The solace is momentary and brief, and there is a deep rumbling somewhere beneath the surface of the earth, stirring her from her reverie and causing the ridge of her brow line to furrow with uncertainty – and disdain. Quietly, her gleaming hazel eyes search the thicket and its impenetrable shadows, seeking some semblance of movement, while her lungs grow still and her breath becomes baited, warily listening for any trace of sound.
Her breath is soon wrought from her with a sharpened gasp as something dark, insidious and altogether enormous descends from above. His behemoth form and broad, expansive wings of thick membrane, muscle and bone casts a shadow across the once sunlit vegetation, and dimming her golden glow with the silhouette of his heavily muscled, dark and opaque body.
Glowering, she is bristling – her pallid skin parts for thick (yet finely sharpened) protrusions of bone, emerging from her skin wherever the bones of her skeletal outline may be. Along the outline of her rib cage, the pointed spears of cartilage and calcified matter emerge, piercing and curved towards the bright, cobalt sky, while thick jagged horns line the curve of her jaw and the plane of her usually soft, feminine features.
Though his dark, seemingly endless and empty eyes bore into her, leaving her rife with an uncomforting stirring in the pit of her belly, he feigns interest in the soft, supple foliage crushed beneath the weight of his landing, tearing away at it with his faintly yellowed teeth with a rigid look of disinterest – but she is not fooled.
He is dangerous, and she can sense the stench of death etched into his skin.
”What do you want?” she nearly snarls, her own feathered appendages pluming out at each side as the ridges and hollows grow their own bony extensions, enveloping her in a thorny, prickly armor of her own – though deep down, she knew that even her bone wielding would hardly stand a chance against him and whatever dark magic was seeping from his old and tired bones. ”Who are you?”
The solace is momentary and brief, and there is a deep rumbling somewhere beneath the surface of the earth, stirring her from her reverie and causing the ridge of her brow line to furrow with uncertainty – and disdain. Quietly, her gleaming hazel eyes search the thicket and its impenetrable shadows, seeking some semblance of movement, while her lungs grow still and her breath becomes baited, warily listening for any trace of sound.
Her breath is soon wrought from her with a sharpened gasp as something dark, insidious and altogether enormous descends from above. His behemoth form and broad, expansive wings of thick membrane, muscle and bone casts a shadow across the once sunlit vegetation, and dimming her golden glow with the silhouette of his heavily muscled, dark and opaque body.
Glowering, she is bristling – her pallid skin parts for thick (yet finely sharpened) protrusions of bone, emerging from her skin wherever the bones of her skeletal outline may be. Along the outline of her rib cage, the pointed spears of cartilage and calcified matter emerge, piercing and curved towards the bright, cobalt sky, while thick jagged horns line the curve of her jaw and the plane of her usually soft, feminine features.
Though his dark, seemingly endless and empty eyes bore into her, leaving her rife with an uncomforting stirring in the pit of her belly, he feigns interest in the soft, supple foliage crushed beneath the weight of his landing, tearing away at it with his faintly yellowed teeth with a rigid look of disinterest – but she is not fooled.
He is dangerous, and she can sense the stench of death etched into his skin.
”What do you want?” she nearly snarls, her own feathered appendages pluming out at each side as the ridges and hollows grow their own bony extensions, enveloping her in a thorny, prickly armor of her own – though deep down, she knew that even her bone wielding would hardly stand a chance against him and whatever dark magic was seeping from his old and tired bones. ”Who are you?”
Ellyse