01-16-2021, 03:47 PM
it was a blood-soaked feast
that never ceased
that never ceased
He does not fear the dark nor the monsters they bring. He is the Drowned god, Poseidon, the Finisher. He is the monster of all monsters, even when he stares down the familiar shining black face of Nexu. He expects anger (of course, for much of their time together begins with such an emotion) and when silence envelops him, the painted stallion’s chin tips upwards, his dark eyes peering through the blackness, trying to make out any shape of her within the depths of the cave.
She strikes the second he begins thinking perhaps she isn’t there at all. There is laughter that arises from his throat in surprise as she lunges, her black skin glittering as she comes into the open beneath the sliver of light that dimly hangs above them. Within moments he is only water, a liquified shape of himself that then resolidifies only a few inches from where he had originally stood, the bulk of her body missing him entirely.
Her tail finds purchase on the patterned green and pearl of his ribs as her hooves meet the earth right next to him. A gasp leaves his mouth at the burning sensation (pain, he remembers it’s called) and his ears fall into the depths of his tangled and damp mane. Furious, he bellows into the night air, his voice echoing across the various boulders and woods. The part of his ribcage where she struck him dissolves into water, releasing her grasp from his skin as he kicks out with his hindlegs, knowing that there would be little damage done if his hooves happen to connect with her armored shoulder, neck or face.
When his back hooves touch the earth, the dark evergreen of his skin resolidifies. The pierced flesh already has begun to heal.
Water from the atmosphere condenses together magically, fueled by his anger and excitement. Their reunion would be bloody, and he knew he would find it disappointing if it were anything but. He had forgotten, of course, about that damned tail, and with a sneer he wields the water like a rope, holding the damned thing away from him.
He doesn’t speak - reverting back to the familiarity in which they had found together in years past. He doesn’t attempt to bite at the armor of her hide with the bluntness of his teeth, but merely turns himself around so that they are shoulder to shoulder. He chuffs gently, blowing air from his nostrils as he attempts to brush his muzzle against the sleek obsidian of her neck.
She strikes the second he begins thinking perhaps she isn’t there at all. There is laughter that arises from his throat in surprise as she lunges, her black skin glittering as she comes into the open beneath the sliver of light that dimly hangs above them. Within moments he is only water, a liquified shape of himself that then resolidifies only a few inches from where he had originally stood, the bulk of her body missing him entirely.
Her tail finds purchase on the patterned green and pearl of his ribs as her hooves meet the earth right next to him. A gasp leaves his mouth at the burning sensation (pain, he remembers it’s called) and his ears fall into the depths of his tangled and damp mane. Furious, he bellows into the night air, his voice echoing across the various boulders and woods. The part of his ribcage where she struck him dissolves into water, releasing her grasp from his skin as he kicks out with his hindlegs, knowing that there would be little damage done if his hooves happen to connect with her armored shoulder, neck or face.
When his back hooves touch the earth, the dark evergreen of his skin resolidifies. The pierced flesh already has begun to heal.
Water from the atmosphere condenses together magically, fueled by his anger and excitement. Their reunion would be bloody, and he knew he would find it disappointing if it were anything but. He had forgotten, of course, about that damned tail, and with a sneer he wields the water like a rope, holding the damned thing away from him.
He doesn’t speak - reverting back to the familiarity in which they had found together in years past. He doesn’t attempt to bite at the armor of her hide with the bluntness of his teeth, but merely turns himself around so that they are shoulder to shoulder. He chuffs gently, blowing air from his nostrils as he attempts to brush his muzzle against the sleek obsidian of her neck.
m a u g r i m.
@[Nexu]