06-18-2015, 04:10 PM
If you need me I'll be up with the moon. Watch me changing as you turn out the light. Watch me changing as I leave your cocoon. I'm like a ghost, a vampire in the mirror, You're the beast that's waiting to feed. Lord of the flies you think that you are the leader. You act so big and watch it bleed. ____Aneku's ears were cocked to the side, listening, his dead cold eyes watching, waiting. He was silent, contemplating slow demises in his head, stirring little tales of woe, some rather disturbed fairytales. He stood out, like flame against the snow, his black eyes an oblivion as dark and ominous as some of the caverns in the Tundra itself. The fiery steed was cool, the ice in the air chilling his finer skin. He was acclimatising to the air, the loam beneath his feet. The only thing that he was finding, perhaps a little burdensome was the lack of blood in the place -- by blood, he for once did not mean the scarlet life source spilling on the white floor, no, the fiery steed meant faces, beating hearts, muscular flesh. It was good to see another, good in the way a predator finally spots a small rabbit in his infinite hunger. Aneku was not hungry, he was not famished in the way for food, as he was for knowledge. ____It is not long before another joins the foray. He recognises him from the meeting, his pale form, he blends in well with the backdrop, a true stalker. Aneku acknowledges him with a nod, a simple noncommittal greeting, but then Kratos speaks, sardonic dripped words, they are a sort of tonic, music serenading the chestnut's ears. It was something other than the whistling wind, the bend of the trees as it howled past, or the winter wolves' sorrowful cry in the midnight hour. He smirked then, a devious twist of his ashen lips, "I can hardly sneak up on others now, can I?" his laugh was short, more of a quick and sharp cackle before it dispersed into the air in a coin of icy breath. He turned back to the wanderer, his dark eyes roaming him, drinking him in. "Sometimes being lost doesn't mean in a strange territory." his words are hardly shrewd, hardly wise, they are just there, fragments of a puzzle that Aneku is still trying to solve. He was a complex stallion, a mind as jumbled and as fragmented as broken rocks. He turns back to Kratos, ears twitching, listening, then once more he turns back to the stranger. "If this a family affair, I will not keep you. Families... they are... not my taste." he licked his lips then; remembering the tang of his mother's blood, the toughness of her aged flesh. He remembers the memory he engraved in his mind, the scent more than anything of a brother he never knew, but a brother he sought to find. He flicked his tail, idly, pointlessly. He shifted, disappeared and then reappeared just beyond Gaza, his muzzle dipped a little. He could do this, this respect thing, this talking like a real being thing. It wasn't all just glares and silence, he had a voice after all. A creepily haunting lullaby of sorts. A death rattle if it were. "I'm Aneku. The Tundra is new to me, but is home. It takes some getting used to but... it grows on you." he inhaled the air then, wisps of cool breath spiralling from his nostrils, he turned his head to quietly observe Kratos, and then back to Gaza, but he spoke to none in general. "The Tundra needs men, I'm sure Kratos is more inclined to agree." he blinked, dark eyes meeting those of the pale man, he kept his gaze, perhaps slightly eerie, unnerving, not blinking, not hardly breathing, then he dispersed once more, gone for several moments before reappearing back between the two brothers. He wanted to say something, something witty, something meaningful but the steed was past that, past flowy thoughts and handsome words. He grunted a little, a breath, cold, harsh. He had his mind preoccupied, still thinking up plans, schemes, still finding paths that his brother had trod, the scent was still there, vague and almost non-existent, but it was there. He had work to do. He dipped his nose to both stallions, kept a keen eye upon Kratos, a smooth smirk touching his lips. He liked him. He had character. It was becoming. "I shall leave you two... family business and all that." a pause, a long, deliberating and unblinking stare to Gaza, "Pleased to meet you, Gaza. Until next time." his chestnut frame then melted into the atmosphere, and he was gone, out of their view and up on a higher ridge just above them, watching, silently. He was there if things turned awry, but whether or not he'd put a foot in, it was undecided. He kept his dark eyes as a watchful sentry over the Tundra. the teleporting death god of carnage & jinca, the coldhearted resident of the tundra |