reach out and touch faith. || zeik & any

[Underwood]

Reach out and touch faith

Underwood

I will deliver; you know I'm a forgiver.

  An unsettling dread treads through his sinewy muscle as he touches gently to the moist soil beneath his weight, the scent of nauseating flora encompassing him and leaving him heady and irritable. Though tension is obvious across his stoic features, his mind remains a mystery, unseen to even the most skilled of prying and inquiring minds. He is a vulture personified, with empty, mirthless eyes, a terse jaw and taut muscles - each individually rippling beneath his sooty flesh, flexing the delicate bones of his heavy wings. 

   Gleaming beneath the pale sunlight, he draws the length of his bristling plumage up to shield him from its blinding light, but something draws him out of the shadows of the valley and into the light of day. Diplomacy leaves a foul taste in his mouth, but there is nothing he will not do for mother.

  A wicked smile tugs at the corners of his whiskered lips as something sinister begins to fester within his dark gaze; he watches quietly beneath the shade of an old willow as he draws his magnificent wings tightly along his slender sides. He cranes his neck gently to the left, savoring the caress of the draping branches as they pool across the nape of his neck, and he watches - waiting. It had been a tiring journey, and his weary bones were tired from tireless flight, but a renewed energy soon stirs as he watches the mesmerizing waves of amber rustle in the breeze.

  As the sun begins to set beyond the horizon, illuminating the sky in its vibrant shifts in color, he emerges from the shadows at last with a slow hissing sigh, his dark eyes peering across the individuals gathering across the emerald plain. Tilting his neck to the sky and expanding the length of his broad black wings, he cries out into the heavy air, bellowing for any and all to hear. Nameless King, he seethes within, searching still. Come to me.

Underwood, to represent the Valley.

[Z e i k]

If I Cannot Move Heaven

His wingspan stretches across the slowly darkening sky, as his talons glint in the limited sunlight offered by the setting sun. Lowering his mantle the bird of prey allows his optics to scan the lush terrain, toes clawing at the wind as hot air whips between each individual digit as he picks up speed. Nearing the borders the falcon hears a voice above the silence of his resting kingdom, as few equine are often about during the near evening hours. A stranger lingers the borders something Zeik doesn't take too well at first as he inspects the individual by circling it from above. Allowing a sharp shreik to emerge from his mandible, Zeik flutters nearer. The ebony winged stranger smells strongly of the Valley and, the man does take note of that before shifting into his equine form. Wings and talons shift into hooved limbs as his sharp beak smoothly changes into an ebony muzzle.

Clearing his throat, the man is hesitant to speak. For this is the first envoy sent to his kingdom under his rule, "I'm Zeik." His tone is tense at first curving out into some sort of means of welcoming. "How can I help you?" The concept of peace is held close to him, as if he could touch and feel it. He had no intentions for war, just peace. Nothing more was intended for the kingdom, they were too weak to create enemies. 

I Will Raise Hell

It's horrible. Agh Just wanted to get something up before I forgot.