• Logout
  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    On With Hope To The Grave [Offy/Vaughan]
    #1

     
    The blood bay was not exactly thrilled to be back in the frigid air of Tundra. It was just too cold for his thin skin and thin coat, even in the early winter it was much colder than any other location.  While the climate left much to be desired, in his opinion, the occupants of this land he enjoyed well enough. Well, he enjoyed them enough to leave his haughty son there while he went to find Vessel. He trusted that Offspring would handle Vaughan and give his...sprit...some direction. So the lanky bay plodded through the snow and ice to the Tundra's border and halted there. He called to the larger ice king, knowing he would come in due time, it wasn't urgent, though the necromancer hoped he would arrive in decent time as the cold had already begun seeping into his bones.

    He had been through enough since he left and his journey was not done yet, but he had to check in on Vaughan and give the poor ice king an opportunity to unload the unruly but good-hearted boy. And then it was back to the search, back to the endless hunt as Vessel was still out there somewhere. The necromancer's pelt twitched in its first shiver and he paced to try and keep warm Blasted cold, he really was a sour sort in the winter.  The wind was the worst, the icy gusts that pulled at his coat and then got under it to his skin. It licked and bit at him pushing and driving him to the edge of his tolerance,  He wished he had Killdares he next to him, as the magma king was a lovely personal heater. A small chuckle escaped him as he waited. He would have to call ol Killdare his personal space heater during their next encounter.  It is a miracle that he chooses to put up with the bay, but Nymph can't help his sarcasm, it's just who he is. Just as Killdare can't help his temper at times. We all have our quirks. 

    His eyes flick to the ice wall before him as he saw movement, and he stilled in hopes the Tundra King would soon be before him.

    Nymphetamine

    cold was my soul, untold was the pain I faced when you left me: a rose in the rain



    ooc: short and sweet!  no need for fluffy, this will be short just to keep with the orginal deal of temp. "baby sitting"  it's 12:30 and i should be in bed. I'm horrible.
    [Image: nymphetamine_zpsmlx48otf.gif]




    Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)