[private] The Sweet Sting || Lilliana ||

[Wolfbane]

I believe I'd die if I only could

I sure feel strange, but it sure feels good

“She gave them meaningless, rhyming names.” Longclaw muttered quietly. He was a dark songbird, perched on the bough of a tree somewhere deep inside the heart of Taiga, and he peered down with sharp eyes into the hazy rays of summer sun at the family of horses far below. The trio - a mare and her two foals - seemed oblivious to his existence, which suited him just fine. “Oh shut up, You couldn’t have done better.” He hissed to himself, this time in a tone a bit higher and much raspier. The bird shook its head and clutched the branch under his toes, changing color from black to the same reddish hue of the bark.

“They’re perfect. Twin boys.” Wyrm said through a small, glossy black beak. He liked being in charge, pushing the rest of the thoughts away and shifting his skin so freely again. The others inside (he shuddered) did such hack jobs with the ability. No imagination whatsoever.  But they fought each other constantly now and it left them ragged, irritated with one another. His control was only as good as long as no one else contested it, and they contested it constantly.

“Because you’re not meant to lead us.” The bird whispered again, and again his color changed: fiery red with a white underbelly, speckled. A hood of black that covered only the feathered cap and beady little eyes. He stopped his manic conversation and twitched his round head from side-to-side, then fluttered out from his cover.

Instead of a bird, Wolfbane landed with an audible thump and his wings, magnificently white and partially flared, brought a faint breeze with them when they stilled. He looked up slowly and frowned; a bit mystical and dangerously calm. Not remotely concerned about how his appearance might be received. The light seemed more golden when it glanced off his striped hide, the warm green and red tones much more vibrant. Motes of dust filtered away from where he stood but he stayed there, for the moment.

His eyes flashed, turning quickly on the boys. Then they darted back to @[lilliana].

“Break’s over, Love.” He smiled, and the svelte line of his daring mouth twisted up into that achingly familiar smirk. Boyish, impish, terribly lovable. “Daddy’s home.”

For this thread:  Sex: M  ◉  Appearance: Normal  ◉  Mood: Dangerous