 Engelsfors
on tarnished golden wings Midnight brings feathered raven wings upon trees, their eerie caw a deathly promise; I remembered them cries so vividly that autumn night. The wind had ice strewn within, it chilled me to the marrow of my bones. He hadn't been the first and he was certainly not the last. I refused to be intimidated by fickle words and false promises. If one were to promise death, then one should talk with daggers, not stuttering sentences. My mind shifted, gates opening and squeaking closer upon rusty hinges. Memories came at such poor times. Such as conversations with strangers, the slightest familiarity brings about flashes of my past. It takes the ticking hand of the clock to push them aside.
My lofty head, set upon my long, willowy arch, sat square. Eyes glistening sapphire in the slithers of silver light. They flash with s thoughtfulness, a hint of recollection, but it's gone within the next blink. 'Killdare. Charmed, I'm sure.' black magic and sleek velvet, my voice is a shadow of respect. A slight incline of my muzzle. He's Chamberling, it's all over him -- of course it was an obvious motion. I could not help but roll my shoulders with another airy chuckle. He's visibly irked, the way his eyes demean me, turning into slits. It's an interest I take quite smoothly, to my locked up heart. 'Whatever the intention, the bedraggled look does little for you.' my voice is smooth, yet course like crushed velvet. There's little harm in the silver voice, golden undertones of well placed wit. I flicker each earlobe, a gesture of humour. My eyes roaming him once more, eyeing up the things you miss on first inspections.
I have a terrible habit of that; analysing everyone's strengths, their weaknesses. I am good at reading the very fine print that is woven in each and every muscle. I notice in Killdare, he is irked by me, by my hypnotic little actions. I have no real reason, I'm young, I gave itches beneath my skin that even course bark won't reach. I'm positive those itches were for life itself. I cannot stay still for long. I'm still growing into the long limbs and sleek body, standing still just makes it that little bit harder. 'Compliments are not your forte, are they, Killdare?' there is a smirk twisting on my salmon lips, a voice cool like the autumn breeze, and crisp like the decaying leaves underfoot. 'One cannot simply say a lady is... Large. It simply isn't done, unless you'd wish for a... Sharper response.' I intend on enticing him, if nothing more than a little amusement, if not alluring, it is a vex to him, which to me is all the same. I sidestep once more, the more he steps away, the closer I get, yet remaining in a few feet distance. I'm not imprudent enough to get my hide snapped at; you can't stay flawless while being stupid now, can you?
'I can't simply give away secrets now, can I?' long legs stretch out beneath me, gangly in places, sloping smooth with muscle in others. I cock my head, doing so causes the curtain of ghostly white to conceal my sapphire gem eyes. Watching him, analysing him. It's s burden being so tall, and I'm only going to get taller. I'm sure in a few years time (if we both remain in the chamber) we will be having a similar conversation, and he still vexed yet awed by my loftiness. 'Grace, Killdare. You are obviously one for a few spars,' I noted his scars earlier on, the ash lines against his earthy bay skin. 'Do you bulldoze right into them? Or do you act quick on your feet, light, quick?' I pause, dropping my gaze as well as my pink tinged muzzle. Of course, a simple lady telling a sturdy man how to fight; when it was evident he'd seen a few already. 'Beg pardon, Killdare. I mean no ill of my words.' I bring my gaze once more upward, towards him, keeping both orbs trained on his own. Ghostly, haunting. Perhaps a little unnerving, my unblinking gaze never wavering, instead the smooth line of my smirk returns. 'See the woods as your challenger, every trunk another opponent. Would you let them argue with you, like the trees? I am hard pushed to believe that...'
even the angels start to fall
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Haha. She is an ever changing flower. She's interesting to play. I love Killdare  Engelsfors is having a little bit of fun.
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